


Swelter

by TomArlo



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Fear, Hurt Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones-centric, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Protective Jughead Jones, Serial Killers, Stalking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-31 15:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomArlo/pseuds/TomArlo
Summary: Jughead struggles to keep his life and relationships from collapsing after Riverdale's dashing newcomer develops a sinister obsession with the young serpent.While he's desperately trying to avoid his stalker, an unusual serial killer continues to strikes fear through Riverdale's residents.-----Inspired by the introduction of Charles Smith in season 3's last episode.Will contain elements of abuse, stalking, obsession and other mature elements.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 30
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

"It was a day like any other,"

Wasn't it?

Jughead frowned. 

Even in the hidden realms of his own thoughts, those words sounded completely false. Like the rosy start of some passionate teen fantasy rather than the nightmarish terror it truly was. 

Why did he assume that saying these words out loud would make it any better? 

It's nothing more than a low-energy lie he conjured up in the early morning hours of yet another wakeful night. 

The young writer sat up in his makeshift bed, pushing his tousled hair back with one shaking hand. He recoiled when his fingers accidentally brushed against a particularly tender spot on his scalp. 

The powerless surrendering motion of being dragged by his hair is something he never wants to experience again. In fact, it's not a memory he ever imagined to be unfortunate enough to have, despite the merciless area he grew up in. 

It's such a disrespectful gesture. 

A gap in the curtains proved that it was still quite dark outside. Drops of rain echoed quietly on the metal shell of the trailer. Soft and peaceful, in full contrast with his inner turmoil. 

These swirling 4 am thoughts were supposed to ease the feelings of guilt that grounded down on his chest. 

To take away some of the shame he felt from being so _incredibly_ stupid. __

_ __ _

At least, that's what the counselor told him. She spoke to him for hours on end, but all he could remember is her strange purple lipstick, the book charm on her keys and the few words of advice she gave near the end.

_ __ _

To summarise it, recognizing (and believing, mind you) that you couldn't have helped it, is supposed to shift the blame entirely to that... 

_ __ _

He's not even sure what to call the man.

_ __ _

What would a slur help in anyway? It doesn't make it hurt any less. 

_ __ _

Maybe just... him.

_ __ _

Though even that sounded so... demonizing. 

_ __ _

His weary mind's voice attempted once again, persisting through his wave of negative dialogue.

_ __ _

There was nothing out of the ordinary. No alarming signs, no hidden messages. 

_ __ _

Not a single red flag.

_ __ _

Nothing to warn him. 

_ __ _

He seemed like the average guy. Maybe even a bit kinder than your typical adult male. 

_ __ _

Cookie-cutter my-daddy-will-love-you type for any innocent Riverdale maiden in the market. A gentleman. A secure position in a thriving company. Enough hobbies to make him seem like a man far too busy for unholy nightly activities. 

_ __ _

And, as embarrassing as it is to admit it, Jughead found him remarkably handsome. As did many others, or so it seemed from the looks and whispers that ignited whenever he would enter a room.

_ __ _

Jughead sighed in frustration, knitting his fingers in the worn quilted blanket. 

_ __ _

"It not my..."

_ __ _

He hesitated before the word "fault". He reached for his phone and flipped it around, staring at the blackened screen. Despite the massive crack in the corner of the glass, he could still make out his own exhausted features. 

_ __ _

"You should repeat these affirmations in front of a mirror," the counselor said. "Say it with power. Convince yourself."

_ __ _

It's worth a shot. 

_ __ _

"It's not my fault. How could I have known?" His voice broke slightly near the end, shaking the frail and rickety bridge his emotions were balanced on; much more than it should have.

_ __ _

He shut his eyes, bitterly.

_ __ _

Here he is, eight months later, and thinking back now, it was as clear as daylight that there was something seriously wrong with Charles Cooper. 

_ __ _

And he should have been more careful.

_ __ _

××××

_ __ _


	2. Chapter 2: Emerging

**Eight months earlier******

** **** **

"Okay, Cheryl, calm dow-"  
Betty gritted her teeth, clasping her cellphone tighter. The Blossom girl was going off on a tangent over something about Veronica and their year-end parties.

Their _respective_ year-end parties.__

_ __ _

Betty hasn't been able to get a word in, despite the sole reason for the call being to get advice from her.

Jughead winced at Cheryl's ear-piercing tone. Her rant was clearly audible from across the other side of the queen-sized bed as if the phone was set to speaker. Regardless, he still couldn't catch the gist of what she was saying.

"Yes, Cheryl, I know, but if you would just let me-"  
Betty was interrupted once again. Her expression went from highly irritated to a blank stare, indicated that she gave up. She peered out her bedroom window for a few seconds, eyes scanning Archie's window for signs of life, before plopping back down on the bed.

Now her focus was on the little pineapples on Jughead's socked foot. She grabbed at it, knowing very well how ticklish her hellcaster can be.

Jughead moved his foot swiftly, his gaze glued to the laptop screen in front of him, immersed in an article about Ted Bundy's love for photographing his victims.  
Betty moved instead to grab the already heated and humming laptop, dragging it off of Jughead's lap with a scolding look. "Bad for you," she mouthed, pointing at his pelvis.  
He smiled wryly and rolled his eyes before flipping over onto his stomach, positioning the laptop in front of him.

"What's her deal?" He whispered, gesturing towards the phone. Betty shook her head and waved her hand through the air. Jughead didn't really understand the queue, but brushed against her thigh endearingly in response. She replied by running her hand across his cheek. He smiled into her palm.

They were both still in Betty's cozy bed, surrounded by a variety of wool blankets, themed pillows and technological items. The cool morning air seeped into the room through the cracked window, tempting them to snuggle into their blanket cocoons and sleep until noon.

The house was quiet. Even outside it seemed like most Elm's Street was still asleep. Well, except for one inconsiderate old man who somehow thinks that mowing his lawn at 7 am on a Saturday is a good idea. But yes, even the vigilant Alice Cooper was blissfully unaware of the serpent residing in her daughter's bedroom.

And that's the way they'll keep it.

Or, at least, that's what they intended.

A sharp rap on the door, followed by an immediate attempt to open it, startled them both.

Thankfully, they remembered to lock it the night before.

Jughead scrambled onto his knees, giving Betty a panicked look. She held a finger to her lips, far less bothered than he was.

"Mom, hold on, I'm on the phone," she called, reaching over to her dresser to grab her shirt.

"Elizabeth Cooper, did I hear a man's voice in there? That Jones boy better not still be here!" Alice called, trying the door again. "You know how I feel about these sleepovers. You don't want babies now, trust me."

"Mom, relax. It's just me and... Kevin," She lied.

"Still a boy!"

"Over the phone, mom," Betty exclaimed rashly. "Can I finish my conversation now, please?"

"Breakfast in two minutes, be down by then. You too, Jughead. Betty, your sister and the twins are joining us, so dress appropriately." Her mother's scowling voice faded as she took off down the hall.

Betty's eyes widened and she turned to look at Jughead. They could hear Alice's voice switch over to a far cheerier tone downstairs, likely addressing their aforementioned guests.

"Polly is here? Why?" She whispered, clearly upset. "She's not supposed to come until tomorrow! When did she even get here?"

Jughead gave her an equally confused look, panicking in the back of his head over Mrs. Cooper's outright acknowledgment of his presence. "I heard talking last night, at around 11. It could be that they arrived earlier? The trip must have been shorter than we thought," he suggested, reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's just a day earlier. The quicker, the better right? At least it's the weekend, so we can avoid the house."

Betty groaned and grabbed his hand, clenching it tightly. "She could have called first!"

The other side of the phone went silent for the first time in 20 minutes, allowing Betty to sort out this problem first.

"Sorry Cheryl," Betty apologized. "My mom is... Well, you heard. Look, I'll talk to Veronica and hear if she can... Um, " Betty hesitated, racking her mind for the conclusion she should have drawn during Cheryl's tirade.

"Move the date," Cheryl said sternly.

"Move the date," Betty echoed, holding back a sigh of frustration. "Yes, I will ask Veronica to move the date of her party."

"Good. As you know, as proud members of the social committee, which, by the way, includes you," Cheryl pointed out, jabbing at Betty's lack of attendance to their previous meetings, "We are suppose to ensure that as many students as possible join the official party. Not some second-grade propaganda fueled drinkfest. And you can do with the extra credit."

"I know, I know, I'm sure Veronica would understand if I explain it to her. I will do it before tomorrow and get her to move it at least a week... earlier?"

"Later!"

"Yes, later, got it. Sorry Cheryl, I really have to go now-"

"Not a problem, I understand how infuriatingly disruptive family matters can be," Cheryl chirped, seemingly amused by Betty's unhappiness. "Enjoy the weekend with your siblings! I know I will! Tata!"

She ended the call before Betty could say goodbye.

Jughead frowned. "Does she mean she'll enjoy the weekend of you suffering with your siblings or... is she talking about Jason again?"

Betty scoffed. "Both is likely, you know her." She fell back into the pillows, palms pressing into her eye sockets. "I hate it when things change at the last minute! Polly was supposed to arrive the same day as Charles. **Not** a day earlier!" She shoved a pillow over her face, "This sucks. Now I have to make small talk _twice_."

"Well, if you think about it, it's better that Polly is already here when you guys meet Charles tomorrow. It could have ended up with him arriving before her. At least now you won't have to go through that first intro alone." Jughead lifted the pillow, his gentle blue eyes scanning Betty's face to see if he was making it better or worse.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

She pondered over the thought for a bit before giving him a dry smile. "Hmm, fine. That's a good point. That would have been awkward as hell," She sat up, pulling her golden locks back into a ponytail, "I don't even know what to expect. From Charles, I mean. I know the guy from one or two photos and a quick conversation that happened months ago. He seemed okay then, but now he could be just as big of a jerk as my dad. He's his spawn, after all." She paused, repressing the painful memories of her hated father. "If he is even remotely like him, I don't care what my mom says. I am not accepting Charles into our lives."

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"Hey," Jughead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, "You have enough to deal with as it is. Forget about Charles for now. Chances are, he's some boring old guy who does paperwork all day and won't even come out of his room," He kissed her forehead.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Betty smiled, "My mom says he's a cop. So I guess that's sort of cool. And he's 28, I think. So not that old." She moved to straddle Jughead, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But you're right. All I want to focus on now is getting this breakfast over with and then disappearing to Pop's for the rest of the day."

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Jughead kissed her again, "That sounds perfect."

** ** _ __ _ ** **

They stayed like that for a moment, perfectly content in each other's arms. Downstairs, they could hear plates being moved around and Polly's happy chattering. Alice sounded exceptionally cheerful as well, excited for the possibility that all her children will be gathered under one roof for the coming times.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Betty exhaled, "Shall we go downstairs?"

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"We? I was more thinking of taking the backdoor," Jughead said, jerking a thumb towards her window.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Betty smirked. "My mom knows you're here, you might as well join us. I need someone I can pull faces at when Polly starts talking about the farm. Plus, I think I smell waffles," She winked.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Jughead laughed. "I don't want to intrude, but I guess if you insist, I can probably hang around for a bit. It's free food, after all,"

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"Yes! I knew that would get you! Let's get ready," Betty bounced up, heading towards her closet/ Jughead was pleased to see that her mood had lifted. Hopefully, it will stay this way. But he knew that Polly usually brought trouble wherever she went and with another Cooper joining the nest soon, it won't be peaceful for long.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

** ** _ __ _ ** **

xxxxx

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Betty loudly stirred her tea, her gaze fixated on the dissolving sugar particles, obviously in a world of her own. Jughead was perched awkwardly next to her, dressed neatly in a black jean and grey S-shirt, with his beanie on his knee. He twirled the bottle-cap attached to it from side to side. He wasn't nervous, per say, but he definitely wasn't used to so much feminine energy in one room.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Poor Charles doesn't know what's waiting for him.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Mrs Cooper and Polly twittered about everything under the sun, giggling and gossiping, each with a twin on their lap.  
Jughead was surprised to see how radient Mrs Cooper looked, as if she somehow become years younger overnight. The story with Hal took it a terrible toll on her and Betty's relationship, as well as their personal wellbeing.  
Over the past few months, Betty has developed a strange habit of periodically shutting herself off from the real world. When she feels overwhelmed by her emotions, whether they were negative or positive, she would respond by residing back into her own mind and putting up a front designed to keep people away, much like a spiky tortoise shell. He knew it wasn't healthy. An extensive internet search didn't make him any wiser on how to handle it, but he did figure out that it was a coping mechanism and therefor, not all bad.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

He glanced over to her, subtly. She was even doing it now.

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"And I was thinking," Alice started, interrupting Jughead's thoughts. "That since we are all going to be together for at least two weeks, perhaps we should use this time to really do some proper family bonding."

** ** _ __ _ ** **

Betty's gaze snapped up, and Jughead flinched as she grabbed his hand. "What do you mean, Mom?"

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"Well, I spoke to an old friend of mine who now runs a Family Therapy center, and she said-"

** ** _ __ _ ** **

"No, Mom, I mean what do you mean with _two_ weeks?" Betty asked, keeping her voice surprisingly calm, "I thought we'll only be seeing each other for one week, not two."__

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Betty," Polly started, "Mom and I thought after everything that happened, what this family needs is to spend as much time with each other as possible, so we don't have to experience all these confusing feelings on our own. We can talk to each other about how we feel and what we are going to do about those...Bad emotions."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Why do we need to talk about it, it already happened? I think we should cut it out of our lives and move on." Betty gritted her teeth, keeping a stable demeanour.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Well now, how healthy is that?" Polly asked, disapprovingly, "You know at the Farm, we-"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"This is not the Farm, Polly," Betty stated, sternly. "We don't have time to sit around and share feelings, it won't make a difference."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Elizabeth, don't be rude," Alice scolded, "Polly is only trying to help. Obviously this has affected you deeply. We just want to make sure you're getting the right... treatment."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Does Charles know about this extended family time?" Betty asked, pretending not to hear her mother's last sentence.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Well, not quite. Your.. Brother," Alice said, hesitantly, avoiding her daughter's harsh look, "Your brother is not in Riverdale just for our time together. As you know, he is coming here for the investigation. I invited him to stay longer than a week, but he graciously declined and insisted he'd rather stay at the hotel in town, as to not disrupt our lives."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty's expression went from scowling to confused. "That's weirdly considerate."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Alice scoffed. "Well, out of three, I should have at least two polite children so it's not that strange. Besides, Polly and I will still convince him otherwise," she said, resting her hand on Polly's shoulder who gave her an excited smile. "From what I can tell, Charles is not very social, but we'll turn him into a real Cooper soon enough."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Of course, Mom. I'm sure Charles will love it here," Polly sang, hugging Juniper tightly against her body, "I can't wait to see him, I wonder if he's got someone in the eye!"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

The two ladies giggled and began discussing the possibility of Charles having a potential partner, all while Betty was still surprised. Jughead took his chance and leaned over to her, whispering with a smile:

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Seems like Charles takes more after you than we thought," He said, teasingly.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty huffed, "Well, I... We'll see." She stubbornly crossed her arms and moved to rest against Jughead, who immediately welcomed her with a strong one-armed hug.

** ** _ _ _ _\---_ _ _ _ ** **

Time dragged by, but Jughead and Betty didn't mind too much. Alice and Polly were now trading scandalous tidbits of people they both know, keeping the young couple entertained to some extend. Before they knew it, it was already time for lunch.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Shall we go out to eat?" Alice suggested.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Just anywhere but Pop's, I can't stand that place," Polly said, earning a glare from Betty and Jughead.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Jug and I have plans," Betty said, quickly. "We're having lunch with Archie and Veronica," She paused to look at Polly, "At Pop's."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Oh Betty, you see them everyday. You and Jughead can join me, Polly and the twins for a proper meal in Greendale. There's a wonderful little garden restaurant that sells all sorts of dishes, thankfully nothing fried." Alice stood up, Dagwood balanced on her hip. "It will do the two of you good to get out of this town for a bit. Afterwards we can all go shopping."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Mom," Betty started, "We are all going to see more than enough of each other for the coming two weeks." An idea sparked in her mind. "How about Jughead and I go to our friends and then after that, we go pick up the baby cots. That way, you and Polly get some quality time together and you don't have to worry about doing it tomorrow and potentially missing Charles's arrival. Juniper and Dagwood can't keep sleeping in your bed in anyway, what if they crawl out?"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Alice thought for a bit. "Oh alright, I suppose that's not a bad idea. Fine, I would actually appreciate it."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty smiled and glanced at Jughead, who seemed equally happy with the idea. A place that doesn't serve anything fried sounded like somewhere he wouldn't feel very welcome in anyway.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Mrs C, if you'd like, we can ask my dad if he'll assemble the cots? Betty and I will take it to him tonight and it shouldn't take too long. We should be back around... seven,"Jughead said, as casually as possible. Betty ducked her head to hide her smile. She knew F.P. Jones was out of town for the weekend and Jughead himself will probably only take 10 minutes to assemble the cots. The rest of the time they can use to entertain each other in the empty trailer, plus they get to miss the undoubtedly formal sit-down dinner.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Assemble?" Alice looked confused. "You have to assemble those things? Well, alright, if he doesn't mind to do it."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Eh," Jughead shrugged,"What's he gonna have better to do on a Saturday night."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Didn't it use to be you, Mom?" Betty whispered, wiggling her eyebrows at her mother.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Betty Cooper, don't be absurd," Her mother snapped, but the telltale blush on her neck said differently. Her daughter wasn't wrong. She and FP spent multiple nights in each other's arms, even before this whole story with Hal. He was a warm, masculine safehouse she would escape to when Hal would drive her up the walls with anger. All of her frustrations could be released in a single heated minute against that powerful chest. Although she certainly attempted to keep Betty in the dark, she knew that FP has a different relationship with his son. Far more open and honest. Jughead probably knows more than she would like him to know. Her eyes lingered on his for a while, but he broke her gaze, looking instead at the carpet. "Tell your father that I say hi, and that I hope to see him at the fair next week."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Yes ma'am, I'll tell him to go," Jughead said with a half salute.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Alice nodded approvingly as she adjusted her jacket, keeping her expression neutral. It's very difficult not to like Jughead, as much as she hates to admit it. He is all the good parts of FP mashed together into a smaller, more sensitive form. Decent, kind, intelligent.  
Mature, for the most part. His decisions certainly haven't been the best in the past, but what can she expect from someone who's still wet behind the ears. People can say what they want about the Jones and their skeletons, but one thing is for sure, they raise their children exceptionally well.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Please keep my daughter safe."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Always, Mrs C," Jughead said with a smile. Alice feintly smiled back before turning to Polly, who was adjusting Dagwood's cap.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Alright then, we'll be off. Elizabeth, remember your keys. Oh!" Alice spun around, "Before I forget, would you pick up your brother's copy of the keys from the locksmith on your way back?"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Wow, we haven't even formally met him and you're already giving him keys? Mom, isn't that a bit reckless?" Betty asked, concerned.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"You forget, Betty, I have actually met with Charles before and he is harmless. A real sweetheart. And I want him to feel like he is welcome here anytime at all. Besides," She searched through her handbag, scooping out the key's order number and a novelty keychain, "Charles is with the FBI. If he wants to get in somewhere, he will. Key or no key."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

That last part had a shiver raking down Jughead's spine. The idea of people misusing their power positions has always been something that made him uncomfortable. He knows Mrs Cooper's words shouldn't be taken lightly. With his father now holding the position as the town's Sheriff, he saw first-hand just how easily Riverdale's meager security is to bypass. And with Charles's heritage, who knows what he's capable of.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty still seemed displeased with the idea but agreed nonetheless.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Everyone gathered their things to go their separate ways. Tomorrow was going to be one heck of an emotional rollercoaster for Betty, so Jughead definitely intended on relieving her stress before then.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

But first it's off to Pop's for some ice-cold, double-thick Milkshakes and a catch-up with the rest of their pack.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

xxxxx

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"OMG! I want to meet him too!" Veronica exclaimed, "I can't believe it, B. How are you not more excited, this is major!" She squealed, nearly knocking over Archie's chocolate shake. They were comfortably positioned in their usual booth, each with a shake and one large plate of chips in the middle.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"It's not a big deal, trust me." Betty said, "If he is half my mom and half my dad, he's probably just like Polly. So yay, two Polly's. "

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Um, and also just like you?" Veronica reminded her, to which Betty pulled a face.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Well yeah, but two of me? Come on."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Archie laughed, shaking his head. "You shouldn't be so negative about this. Maybe you guys can become good friends?"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"He's like a decade older than me, Arch. We're going to have nothing in common," Betty exasperated, picking at her straw. "I bet he's one of those guys who watches soap opera's and thinks vaccinations is bad for you, I don't know."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"I watch soap opera's," Archie said with a confused look, earning a laugh from Jughead. Veronica grinned and placed her hand on the boxer's wrist.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Either way, I am defs hanging out in Archie's room tomorrow morning so I can check this guy out. I bet he looks like a movie star."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Or a serial killer?" Betty suggested dryly. "I've seen him before, I mean, he's not bad-looking. But I prefer dark-haired boys," She leaned over to nuzzle against Jughead, who smirked.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"You know I die my hair, right?" He joked.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"I love blondes," Veronica announced, grabbing her corset's edges and hoisting it up. "So I can't wait to meet him."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Hey?" Archie asked incredulously.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Don't be jealous, Archikins, you know you're the only one for me. But I do like to befriend attractive men. My daddy says you can win an election if you get the nation to trust a handsome face. And a handsome face in the FBI could be just what I need for my future endeavours with Le Bon Louis.” The Lodge Heir proudly brushed her hair back.  
"Let's stop talking about Charles," Betty said, running her fingertips over her manicured nails. She stopped biting them around a month ago and they've never looked better.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Alright, we can change the topic, but on one condition." Veronica said, slyly.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty narrowed her eyes as Veronica continued. "I want a full body, HQ pic of your bro and you, taken by your camera," She pointed at Jughead, "Candids are fine. It's probably weird to force two strangers to fake smile into a camera lense in anyway."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Jughead shrugged. "I can take a picture if you want, but Mrs Cooper is probably going to take a billion, why not just get one from her?"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Because I want to see them from your angle. You have a unique way of taking photos. They always come out looking quite eerie. And I want to see how much Betty and Charles look alike when they are relaxed and natural."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Which is probably not what he is going to be tomorrow," Betty said. "My mom says Charles isn't very social, so it's probably going to be a formal, stiff conversation most of the time."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Not social doesn't mean not charming," Veronica informed her, wagging her finger. "Jughead is basically a hermit and he's not a total spaz in convo's."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"Thank you, I think?" Jughead said, mildly amused. "But sure, I'll take a photo, if Betty is okay with it?"

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Betty nodded. "You know what, why not. I want to see it too. The photos I have are blurry. I can do with some new ones of my 'new' sibling."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"That's the spirit!" Veronica said gleefully, "I'll call you tomorrow evening for an update. I don't want to miss thing."

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

"I'll introduce him to you on Tuesday. Just give him a day or so to settle in. Who knows, he might take one look at the Coopers and then run for the hills," Betty drawled, dragging her finger around the edge of the glass.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Veronica raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Tomorrow is going to be one heck of Sunday in the Cooper household.

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

Xxxx

** ** _ _ _ __ _ _ _ ** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
Feedback welcome, thanks for reading.  
Sincerely  
Tom Arlo.


	3. Chapter 3: Connection

"My mom is going to kill me!" Betty hissed, searching feverishly through her bookbag for anything that remotely resembles make-up. 

Thankfully she always kept an emergency set of clothes at the Jones's trailer, but it's far from what her mother would have wanted her to wear for the unofficial Cooper Reunion. Instead of a prudish church-dress and kitten heels, she was wearing an over-sized S T-Shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers. "How did we sleep through _both_ alarms?"

"I have no idea," Jughead said, worried. He was dressed equally as casual, his beanie skillfully hiding his ruffled hair. "But I'm more bothered by the fact that we slept for 12 hours straight. What the heck was in that pizza?" 

They were in FP's truck, zipping through the already bustling neighborhood. Families were having late-breakfast on their porches, walking their dogs and getting ready to go to church.  
Jughead's driving was fast, but careful, seeing as the roads were wet and slippery from the night before. He knew the routes like the back of his hand and they reached the North in record time. After completing all of their tasks the night before, the couple rewarded themselves with a large pizza, two horror movies, and a great make-out session. Betty's mother agreed to allow Betty to spend the night at "Veronica", provided that she shows up at the house by 6 am. 

It wasn't until 8:23 that they were rudely awakened by Toni Topaz's hammering on the door. Toni was called by Veronica who was called by Betty's frantic mother. Thankfully, all Lodge's (especially the two ladies) can lie without so much as a second thought and Veronica just went along with it, sweetly assuring Alice that Betty is on her merry way.

And here she was, almost two hours late and certainly not with Veronica. 

"Well, I am not going to be popular today," Betty groaned, hacking a dried mascara brush over her lashes. Save for inappropriately dark lipstick, she didn't have many beauty products with her. "Well, I give up." She said, falling back into the seat. "Charles is going to see me in my PJ's most of the weekends in any way so he might as well get used to the casual look."

Jughead smirked. "You look fine. I think it will break the ice a bit. Your mom and Polly are probably going to be all weirdly formal and dolled up."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Betty muttered, shaking her head, "I can already feel the disapproving looks. My Mom is going to think I did it on purpose. Hey," She jumped forward in the seat, leaning closer to the frosted window.

"Seatbelt," Jughead scolded, but Betty brushed him off. 

"Look! Is that his car?" Betty asked, frowning at the colossal black SUV in the Cooper Driveway. "Wow, talk about stereotypical, this feels like a CSI episode," she huffed, sitting back down. 

"No stickers," Jughead noted, "And check the number plate. I don't think this is a work car."

"You mean he drives this _by choice_? I guess some people are just destined for their careers."

A scatter of leaves clung to the top of the car, likely from the shedding oak above it. The neighbor's cat, Oreo, idly rubbed his head against the tire's ridge. 

"Looks like he was just on time if even Oreo has gotten used to the car" Betty pointed out. Jughead frowned. He knew the cat usually avoided strange objects for at least a week, let alone an hour. His dad's truck got hissed at for an entire month. 

They reached the Cooper house. 

"What was I complaining about yesterday, this is a billion times worse," Betty hid her face in her hands. 

"Don't stress Bets, it's only going to be awkward for the first five minutes," Jughead assured her, squeezing her shoulder with one hand as he slowed down. "Your Mom is probably so happy to see Charles in any way; she'll only be focused on him." He carefully parked in the side of the street. "Seeing as this is probably intended by your Mom to be a closed reunion, I will walk you to the door and-"

"Will you stay with me?" She pleaded, grabbing his wrist. He was surprised. The desperation in her eyes, her shaking pupils, it wasn't something he was used to seeing. Jughead wrapped his hand around hers.

"Of course I will," He leaned towards her and she copied, leaning her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head. The apple and cinnamon scent of her hair sent a wave of tranquility through him. His legs went weak. 

They stayed like that for a minute, Jughead patiently allowing Betty to gather her courage, before shutting off the truck and hopping out. It was chilly outside, as most Autumn mornings in Riverdale were, and the icy wind wasn't making the youngest Cooper feel any less uneasy. 

Jughead offered his serpent jacket to her, which she declined. "If I really want to push my Mom's buttons, I should greet Charles in that."

A snicker escaped from Jughead's throat as he threw the jacket in the back of the truck, opting for a jacketless style as well. "Good point. Do you know what questions you're going to ask him yet?"

"I barely know what I'm going to call him. Do I have to say Charles? Or... Brother? Or Sir?" She asked sourly, hooking in with Jughead as they walked towards the front door. 

"Definitely not Sir," Jughead laughed, "Your mom will freak,"

Betty grinned at the idea, pushing her shoulders back as they stopped in front of the closed door. She did forget her keys yesterday but luckily remembered to pick up Charles's set. She fished it out, her eyes lingering a few seconds on the strange keychain. 

"I didn't even look at this properly, is it a parrot?" She frowned, holding the item up for Jughead to see. 

Jughead smiled. "Chicken. You guys are the Coopers. Get it? Coop? Like Chicken house."

Betty rolled her eyes. 

"How cheesy," She scoffed, but felt her heart warm up. It's a sweet gesture and she could tell her mother really wanted to make things right with Charles. She and Polly have only known about Charles for a few months now, but her mother had to carry this guilt-ridden secret with her for decades. And now she has a second chance at being in her son's life. Shockingly, Charles didn't seem to have a lot of resentment towards her. Well, not anymore. Alice kept the arrangements between her and Charles fairly secretive. Perhaps he did in the beginning, and that's why they are only doing this meeting now.

"Here goes nothing," Betty whispered, inserting the key into the door. Before she could turn it, the door swung open, giving her a fright. Jughead seems to have expected it since he stayed rock-steady next to her. 

"Betty!" Polly exclaimed, surprisingly joyous, "Finally! And you're here too, Jughead! Good, the more the merrier, come on in," She gushed, ushering them inside. Betty and Jughead shared a quick suspicious glance. Even from their spots at the front door, they could clearly hear Alice's jolly tone. The house smelled of baked scones and freshly brewed coffee; a very welcoming feel. 

"Hey, Polly," Jughead greeted, slightly awkward. "I'm assuming your br-um, Charles is already here?"

Polly glanced over her shoulder, grinning excitedly, "Yes, he's here. And I really like him, he's very nice," She assured, directing it towards Betty. "You'll like him too."

Betty gave her a weak smile, not quite reaching her eyes. "Great. Let's meet him then. But I'm taking Jughead with me," She warned.

"We assumed," Polly waved it away, "Come on, come on."

Jughead scanned the older Cooper sister up and down, noting that she was wearing a flower-pattern sundress, flat shoes and light make-up. She looked like a true mother. He wondered if Jason would have clicked so smoothly into this parenthood thing, the way Polly did.

He honestly couldn't imagine Jason as a father. 

Not a good one, anyway. 

They followed Polly to the sitting room, staying a few feet behind her. 

Betty could feel her stomach twisting. 'It's not a big deal,' she confidently told Veronica, yet here she was, feeling like she's about to get sick. Yes, meeting your estranged brother for the second time in your life, is not a big deal. It's big, but certainly shouldn't be causing the emotions she was currently feeling. Rather, the emotions of her sister. 

Perhaps it was the thought of meeting the male offspring of that wretched man and having him live in their house. She knew it was childish to assume that because Charles is a man, he would take after her father and she, female, after her mother. 

While in truth, she was probably more like her father than anyone else in the house. 

As they approached the sitting room, they could make out more and more of the conversation. Betty cringed when she heard her name. Wonderful. What secrets was her mother babbling out to this stranger?

"... not to mention college choices! Betty will be in her senior year next year, so she should start looking around," Alice's tone was optimistic, not in the least bit tense. It sounded more like she was talking to an old friend, rather than her long lost son. 

"Time flies, doesn't it?" A friendly voice responded, soft, but clear. "Juniper and Dagwood will probably keep you quite busy during that time; won't they be toddlers by then?"

Betty was confounded. She certainly didn't recognize this voice. Yes, she heard him spoke before, but in her mind, she imagined him to sound more gruff and unfriendly. Not this warm, husky tone. Perhaps she demonized this man in her head more than she realized. Or intended. After all, their first meeting was a brief discussion in a random town's coffee shop. She remembered being far more interested in the hem of her sleeves at the time. 

"They will!" Alice laughed, "And at the rate my other daughter is going, I might have more grandkids by then." She said, winking at Charles, who chuckled. Betty felt her face heat up and Jughead took a sharp breath through his teeth, scratching the back of his neck, shyly. 

"Mom!" Polly interrupted, skipping into the room. Jughead and Betty stayed outside the door, both hesitant. "Look who's finally here! Betty and Jughead," She cooed, gesturing behind her. 

"Oh, speak of the devil!" Alice said, "Charles, your sister isn't usually so tardy, isn't that right, Elizabeth?" The last part was said more chastising, but overall good-natured. 

The young pair stepped into the room just as Charles and Alice stood up. The twins were happily playing with their toys on a thick blanket near the coffee table. Polly moved to sit with them, gently taking the rattle from Dagwood's tiny fist.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Betty started, her voice somewhat defying. Jughead grit his teeth, immediately picking up on best friend's sudden hostility. He really hoped she was going to give the guy a chance. He wanted to size up this newcomer, but couldn't tear his gaze away from Betty, carefully anticipating her next move. 

"Me and um, Veronica-" She continued, but Alice interrupted her. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart, at least you're here now. Come closer, you as well, FP." She clicked her tongue at herself for the name mix-up and brushed it off. 

Betty didn't comply with her mother's request. She stood frozen, her eyes were glued to the man a few feet from her mother. 

He stood motionless; his gaze stern. He's huge, certainly taller than her father. His hair was closer to a tawny brown instead of the light blonde she imagined. Cold, almost grey irises. It was bizarre to think that the charming voice they heard just seconds ago came from a person with this daunting appearance. Intimidating wasn't quite the right word to describe him. 

Unnerving, perhaps. 

Right of the bat, he reminded her of a lion. Not a fat, lazy lion. Rather, a ruthless, unpredictable lioness. A brutal carnivore who will protect her territory valiantly. Betty racked her brain, seeking to compare him to a less diabolical (preferably male) animal, but her thoughts kept circling back to a lioness. 

Then it hit her why. 

He reminded her of their mother. 

Alice had allowed Betty a moment to take in Charles's presence and process the situation. The room was silent, save for Juniper and Dagwood's little sounds. Jughead held his breath. He gently placed his hand on Betty's lower-back; not pushing, just showing her that he was there for her. 

Charles was the first to break the tense atmosphere. He took a step forward, "Elizabeth," He said, tentatively. "We meet again. Only this time, in your town."

'In my territory,' Betty thought wryly, approaching the lioness. 

"Yes. So it seems," She started, her voice constrained, "It's nice to see you again, Sir."

Betty couldn't believe her ears when the word left her mouth. Alice was just as surprised and she gave an awkward, slightly too-loud laugh. Charles's eyebrows raised. It was obvious that he didn't expect this formal tag either. Jughead ducked his head, cursing their earlier conversation. This type of thing has happened to him countless times. He knew it was just an accident.

Polly snorted. To her, it was hilarious. 

"Betty, he's not that old," Her sister giggled, "You can call him by his name."

Charles gave a bashful smile as Betty stammered. "I-I'm sorry," She said, "I specifically thought in my head that I shouldn't say 'Sir', and then I ended up saying it." She explained, tugging nervously at her pants pockets and biting her lip. The look her mother gave her made her feel like a naughty child. She knew this was not the way Alice wanted this to go. 

Charles laughed, surprising her. "It's okay, I understand. I've done it before as well. You can call me whatever you're comfortable with. And to be fair, I am quite old," He said with a wink. Betty pulled her mouth corners into an unnatural smile, her heart still beating fast. She has to admit, he's not bad-looking.

"Sorry again and thanks, I'll uh..." She glanced at Alice. "Stick with calling you Charles. You can call me Betty, if you want."

"Thank you, Betty." He said with a nod, his voice warm, like when he was speaking to her mother earlier. Betty was thankful that he didn't move in for a hug. By the way he was dressed, she'd say he looks like someone who has touch issues. 

"And you must be... Jughead?" Charles asked, directing his gaze to the boy next to his youngest sister. Jughead looked up, surprised to be acknowledged so soon. He counted on the eldest Cooper sibling being distracted for at least another minute or so. 

The serpent had to bite his tongue from responding with 'Yes sir'.

"Yes, I am, it's nice to meet you, Charles." He said, taking a step closer but not extending his hand, knowing it's impolite for the younger male to do it first. Charles picked up on the action, taking a step forward and extending his hand, which Jughead took gratefully. 

"It's nice to meet you as well. You have a very interesting name," He mused, wrapping his fingers tightly around Jughead's and squeezing firmly, but not enough to hurt him. Jughead copied the pressure, noting that Charles was wearing a ring.

"Oh, thanks, it's actually just a nickname," He said, 'My name is Forsythe, but most people just call me Jughead. You have a cool car."

Betty hid her smile. Jughead is so sweet. 

Charles smirked. "Thanks. It's a bit dirty though. I didn't realize Riverdale gets so much rain; it was pouring when I got here." 

"Ah yes, we have very wet Autumns," Alice exclaimed, relieved that the atmosphere was finally lifted. "You should see the thunderstorms we get around these parts, it's terrible. And it can get quite cold as well, thanks to Sweetwater River." She grabbed Betty and Jughead's wrists, pulling them towards the couch, "Come sit down you two, have some cake and tea, let's get to know each other."

The two complied, sticking close to one another. Her Mother and Charles each sat on a single-seater couch and they took a seat on the triple seater couch, leaving a space for Polly, who preferred to sit with the twins on their blanket. As Betty's luck would have it, Charles's seat was straight across from hers. Thankfully, he was more angled towards Alice. 

Betty waited for her mother to comment on her outfit, but she never did. Alice herself was wearing a stunning red dress and an elegant pearl necklace. Even Juniper and Dagwood were dressed up. Well, as much as you can dress up a baby. The two high-schoolers understandably felt a bit out of place.

The coffee table was packed with baked treats and sweets, including an enticing double-layered chocolate cake. 

An idea popped into Betty's mind. "How about Jughead and I go make coffee for you guys?" She asked hopefully, eager for a chance to break away and discuss the events with her partner. 

"It's okay, Sis, I'll do it," Polly said, sweetly. "You spend some time with our new brother!" 

As Betty was giving a hard look to her tactless sister, Jughead noticed how Charles's expression shifted slightly. He was obviously not comfortable with the term just yet. There was a bit of tension in his jaw and his breathing was shallow, as if he was anticipating something. Jughead wondered what it was. 

Charles's gaze flickered to Jughead, catching him in his act of observation. The younger male turned his head to the side, regretting the action the moment he did it. 

What a way to make it obvious. Best to avoid doing that again. 

xxxxx

Compared to yesterday, the time flew by. 

The conversation began stiffly at first, but thankfully Polly had a magnificent talent for storytelling and she was able to fill every possible awkward silence with some sort of amusing anecdote. She even got a few laughs from Charles. What was suppose to be a quick introductional gathering, was now a Riverdale 101 workshop and a summary of the past 20 years. Alice was beaming, moving her hand every so often to touch her son's arm, especially when she was referencing her children's younger days.

Jughead didn't dare look back at Charles, after locking eyes with him twice more. 

He initially thought that the only anxious guests were him and Betty, but after some careful scrutiny, he realized that the only non-anxious one was Polly. Alice and Charles, despite their geniality, both seemed to be on edge. 

It could have something to do with what Betty was doing, though. 

While Jughead politely avoided looking at the newest Cooper for longer than a few seconds(at least, after being caught), Betty insisted on staring him down. 

Charles didn't acknowledge it.

After a few moments, Mrs. Cooper excused herself, apparently to go fetch something. Jughead noticed the lingering shoulder touch she gave Betty in the passing.

He looked over to their guest to see if he detected it, meeting his gaze.

'Damn,' he thought, snapping his head down. 'Three times.'

'Was he... watching him?'

The serpent moved his focus to Betty's clenched fist, reaching as subtly as possible to touch her hand, even if it is just to prevent his fidgeting. Betty felt his hand brush against hers and she gripped it in a crushing vice. Jughead covered his pained yelp by clearing his throat, attempting to get Betty to look at him, but she ignored him.

Her attention had shifted in the meanwhile, from her new brother to her mother, who entered the room with a large photo album.

"Mom," Betty panicked, jumping up. "I'm sure Charles doesn't want to see all those old photos," She reached for the album, but Alice swiftly moved it out of her daughter's reach. 

"Relax Betty," She smiled. "I won't show him the photos of you eating mud or your shaved-head phase, I just want to show him the different faces of Riverdale."

"You shaved your head?" Charles asked with a smile.

"She shaved _our_ heads, mine in my sleep," Polly recalled begrudgingly, "After her little friend, Archie, convinced her that our cat gave us headlice,"

"I'm assuming Betty also..." Charles paused, glancing at Betty to see if she was okay with the joking conversation. He couldn't tell.

"Shaved the cat? Yup." Polly huffed. She was back on the blanket with the twins, tightening the cap on Juniper's bottle. "And no, we didn't even have lice."

"The cat had fleas," Betty muttered, allowing her mother to move past her. 

'This should be fun,' she thought tiredly, surrendering herself to the dishonors her mother was about to rip out of that miserable book. Despite her best attempt to make Charles uncomfortable, he remained the exact same: formal, but sort-of funny. Polite. Not very chatty out of his own, but responsive when listening. 

He wasn't what she expected him to be. Then again, her two leading expectations were between twitching, antisocial psychopath and dull, stuck-up hermit.

So far, he was just tall FBI man.

"Alright, Charles, let's start from the beginning," Alice quipped, taking her seat and leaning towards her son, who mirrored the movement, interest sparking in his eyes. 

Polly scooted closer as well. She leaned back against Charles's leg, using it as support while she was feeding Juniper. Betty was stunned at her sister's bold and forward action, but Charles didn't seem to mind.

"Oh look! Here's little Betty's first day of middle school!" Alice recalled, taking out a photo of the grinning preteen with two pigtails and multi-colored braces. 

Charles tilted his head. "Ah, you also had braces,' he commented.

"Yeah, I... needed them," Betty said, leaning against the wall, still not pleased with her mother's idea. "Polly didn't, though. Did... you?" She asked, cautiously. 

He grimaced. "Yes, but I got them late. In my early 20's. So I was _that_ guy." 

Betty couldn't help but smile. That was a surprisingly human admittance. It made him feel a bit more relatable. She noticed that while his way of speaking was far more mature than hers, he easily switched his speech pattern to casual when addressing her. 

She wondered vaguely if this meant he likes her.

"Weren't you sent home on your first day?" Polly interrupted, ruining Betty's moment of joy. "I'm pretty sure it was for punching a boy. Knocked the poor kid's tooth out."

"I didn't punch him that hard, Archie was fine," Betty defended, her cheeks flaring up. "He wouldn't quit pulling my hair."

"I think it was more because he kept snapping her training bra strap," Polly explained, directing it toward Charles. 

"Polly!" 

"What?" Polly laughed, "He's our brother and an adult, he's not going to freak out over the word 'bra'," She added, fueling her younger sister's embarrassment. 

Betty shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. It was bad enough that this stranger had to endure her Polly's audacious personal space invasion, now she had to freak the man out with feminine things. Sure, most men didn't care, but you never know. After all, Charles did attend an all-boys school.

"I'm sure he didn't dare to do that again," Charles said, more amused than anything else, flipping the photo around to study the penciled-on date. He turned to Alice. "You taught your girls well," he commented, carefully placing it back in the album. 

Alice sighed, shaking her head. "Thank you, dear, but I most certainly didn't teach my girls to _punch_ people. If a lady disagrees, she says it with her eyes, not her fists." Polly joined in with the last part, repeating it sweetly with her mother, to which Betty rolled her eyes. 

"I'll remember that," Betty said dismissively. She felt a hint of pride surging through her veins. Charles indirectly praised her. She knew she wasn't supposed to (or rather, didn't want to) care what he thinks of her, but that was nice to hear comments like that There were obviously no hard feelings between her and Archie and he most certainly learned a valuable lesson that day, but she was made to believe by her parents that there was something wrong with her for reacting the way that she did.

It suddenly occurred to her that Jughead has been very quiet. Even from Betty's stance on the other side of the room, she could tell that Jughead seemed concerned. You could practically hear the gears turning in his brain.

'I'm missing something,' she realized. Betty resented her tendency to get sucked into the dark abyss of her chaotic mind. These days, it seemed to happen a lot more. It was like a haphazardous light switch. Everything that defined who she was and how she wants to act would dissolve into something that felt like radio static. During these times, it was as if her emotions were squished underneath a thick pane of glass. She was able to concentrate on only one thing, usually whatever was pushing her buttons. It gave her malicious intent.

Betty resumed her position next to her friend, following his gaze to see what was worrying him.

Jughead's eyes were fixated on the photo album. 

Obviously, there was going to be quite a few photos of Hal. He truly hoped Mrs. Cooper had thought this plan through. If Charles's reactions on Hal were going to be close to Betty's, then this conversation was not going to go well.

Besides, was it really a good idea to show the abandoned son a collection of happy family pictures? 

Pictures which should have included him? It was almost cruel.

Jughead twisted his ring from side to side. He could feel Betty's presence next to him. Was she thinking the same thing? 

Betty bit her lip. Of course, this was a bad idea, but Charles seemed genuinely curious. So far, he was fascinated with each photo presented to him. Which was odd.

If she were in his shoes, she wouldn't even have shown up today, let alone want to see photos of the two children who made the cut, if she had to put it so bluntly. 

She took Jughead's hand, gently this time. If there were going to be any negative reactions, they would be ready for it. But testing the emotional resistance of this man was not something she would willingly partake in.

As for observing it? That she could do. 

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I would love to know what you think.  
Yours sincerely,  
Tom Arlo


	4. Chapter 4: Acceptance

"Perfect."  
  
Alice Cooper sat back in the vintage chair of her dressing table, admiring her handy work from afar. Multiple curlers were woven tightly against her scalp, each roller carefully positioned to lock into the next one.   
  
"I told you I'd show you how to use the curling iron," Betty murmured, lifting her face from the thick goose-feather pillow. "It would have gone a lot quicker." She was sprawled out on her mother's bed, lazily watching Alice do her nighttime routine.  
  
"Curling iron curls only last a few hours. These are much more durable."  
  
Betty rolled onto her back with a sigh. "Oh."   
  
Alice swiveled one of the mirror's panes to look at Betty, her expression that of pure amusement. "You certainly had a lot more to say about Charles yesterday. What happened?"  
  
Her youngest shrugged. "He's different than I thought he was going to be." She flipped the pillow onto her face. "I have no more words."  
  
"I knew you'd like him," Alice smiled, dabbing night-cream carefully under her eyes.  
  
"Didn't say that."  
  
"You didn't have to. I could tell. Besides," Alice stood up, moving to sit next to Betty on the quilted sheet. "He didn't give you a reason to dislike him."  
  
"No," Betty sat up. "He didn't. But you can't like random people you _just_ met."  
  
"He's not any random person. He's family," she coaxed, reaching to touch her daughter, but Betty drew her limbs closer to her body, facing away from her mother.   
  
"So was Dad." She fiddled with the coffee mug pattern on her pajama pants' knee. "And we also thought Chic... Well, you know."  
  
"Honey, Chic and your father..." Alice took a deep breath, "Yes, what they did was ... a surprise. An unforgivable, terrible surprise. Those bastards broke our trust. I know being burnt twice can make you... cautious." She exhaled. "It's okay to be scared."  
  
Betty paused her fidgeting. Her eyes stung. Alice took the chance to place her hand on Betty's arm, firmly. She didn't let go when her daughter leaned away.   
  
"But," Alice continued, "Don't you think it would be little unfair of us to punish Charles for _their_ sins? He didn't ask for any of this. This meet-up, living together as a family; none of it was his idea. I contacted Charles first. Chic approached me."  
  
The Autumn winds swept through the oak outside the main bedroom, rocking its branches with a powerful force. Accompanied by the rain, it sounded almost like crashing waves. Betty was grateful for the sound drowning out her painful swallows.   
  
Alice laid back carelessly, no longer mindful of her perfectly constructed hair-stylers. She pulled Betty to lay down next to her, but didn't embrace her.   
  
The only touching Betty really tolerated was from Jughead. God knows, the boy himself is not a big lover of physical affection. But at least it was something. She had read somewhere that massaging your baby could reduce anxiety in the child's later years. That positive physical affection from a parent could shape a baby's brain, leading to a more social and happy adolescent.   
  
Of course, she knew she was too late for that bus with Charles. It didn't take her long to figure out the young man was entirely unaccustomed to hands on him, at least in a caressing nature.   
  
Regardless, he shied away only twice before gracefully accepting her affection, which gave her a mountain of hope.   
  
Polly had always been fine, thankfully. She proved that today. And the twins might even be a bit too spoiled when it came to being held and cuddled.   
  
Betty on the other hand... It would be unfair to judge her as she was now. No one in her position would want to be smothered after the year she had. The best Alice could do was show her that she was not alone.  
  
"I know," Betty finally said, breaking the silence. "I don't want to shun him because of Dad. I could see he was trying... And I'll try too." She turned to face her mother. "But you have to promise me you'll be careful, Mom. Please, lock your bedroom door. Keep your phone on. Tell Polly to do the same." Her voice was determined, with a hint of urgency.   
  
Alice was surprised but nodded in agreement.   
  
At least this was a start.   
  
This was now a four-bedroom house, seeing as Fred Andrew's construction team recently renovated the Cooper home to add a baby room downstairs. Betty would naturally stay in her room and Polly insisted on sleeping with the twins until they turned 18 months old, so Charles was currently in Polly's old room.   
  
Right down the hall from hers and across from Betty's.   
  
"I will," She affirmed, "But don't lay awake because of this. Please. The FBI does very strict background and psychological checks before appointing just anyone. Charles wouldn't be an agent if he was unstable."  
  
Betty nodded, closing her eyes. "You're right. I'm going to bed now... Do you know when Polly and Charles will be back?"  
  
Alice smiled. "Your sister said something about showing him some sort of cocktail at Le Bon Louis. They'll probably stay there until the rain settles."  
  
Betty smirked. "Veronica really wanted to meet him. Maybe she'll recognize him," She hopped off the bed. "Good night, I'll check on the twins before I _lock_ my door for the night," Betty gave her mother a look.  
  
"I know, I know. The Jones boy is in his_ own _bed at his_ own_ house, correct?"  
  
"Hm-hm," Betty hummed, moving quickly out the door to the hallway. With her shoulders pulled up and eyes squeezed shut, she waiting for Alice to call her back and reprimand her, but it didn't happen.  
  
Technically Jughead wasn't in her bed right now, but he was going to be there from around midnight. There was something he needed to take care of first. His dad had left a very important file in his office and asked his son to scan and email him the papers since he was still stuck at the training center four towns over. FP needed it tomorrow and so Jughead had to go to the Sheriff's office right away.   
  
Besides, Betty knew her mother didn't mind. She just had to pretend like she did, otherwise, she'd be considered a bad parent.   
  
The stairs creaked lightly as her socked feet padded down them. The door to the baby room stood halfway open. Blue merry-go-round horses danced across the pale yellow walls, every horse in a different pose. They emitted from a handcrafted nightlight, gifted by the Blossoms. The twins were sound asleep, each in a cot that Jughead had assembled. Polly's bed was still made, meaning she probably didn't take an afternoon nap.   
  
Betty wondered vaguely if she allowed Charles some time on his own to rest, or did she drag him out to town straight after their lengthy tea-time. She and Jughead had a wonderful nap in her room. She considered herself to be a social person, but the morning drained her energy. FP had called Jughead just before they could do some light gossiping of their own.   
  
Betty peered out the window. Charles' car was gone, so hopefully, he was driving. Polly was a great driver, but she can't see well at night. And if she goes out to drink, she _drinks_. It was Jason Blossom who taught her how to properly get drunk; she used to hate the smell of alcohol.  
  
The neighbor's dog gave a series of short barks, startling Betty. Probably that raccoon again. She closed the curtains and tested the front door.  
  
This was a good neighborhood and all, but you never know. She had to admit, having a male presence in the house, made her feel a lot safer. Say what you will about a lady not needing a man in her life (she most certainly agreed), there was no getting around the fact that a house full of women was considered to be an easy target.   
  
After her dad got arrested, Jughead unknowingly took over that role. Perhaps it would be Charles' role from now on?   
  
At least, for her mother and Polly's sake.   
  
She will never need anyone other than her Serpent prince to feel safe.   
  
\------  
  
"Okay, it should go through in about 15 minutes. The file's pretty big," Jughead said, his phone wedged between his shoulder and cheek.   
  
He hit enter on the keyboard of his father's desktop, sending the scanned case file to FP's personal email. Despite the stormy weather, the internet signal was pretty strong. The office was quiet.  
  
"Thanks, kid," FP sighed, his exhaustion unmissable, even through the receiver.   
  
"Long day?" Jughead asked, rotating from side to side in the Sheriff's chair.   
  
"You have no idea. I hate training. Specially if we still have to keep up with other cases in between."  
  
"I can imagine. Why is your training so long this time? You already know how to do your job, what more do they need to teach you," Jughead commented, crossing the room to the file cabinet. The sight of all those folders had curiosity burning in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"It's this new killer. I can catch a crook or a dealer but hell, I have no idea what to do with a killer that kills in a bloody pattern. Don't see why I need to learn it though. The FBI is taking over anyway." His voice had a hint of bitterness laced in the words; perhaps even jealousy. Which was understandable. No one liked being told how to do their job.   
  
Jughead's hand hovered over a thin brown file, wedged between a thick worn folder and a black notebook. "Maybe they'll want you guys to do the wrap-up? Are you at least learning interesting things, about serial killers, I mean?"  
  
"Eh, wasn't really paying too much attention in the afternoon classes, but yeah, the morning one was al'ight." Jughead could hear the distinctive crinkle of a chips packet.  
  
The young writer had to bite back his frustrated groan. What he wouldn't give to be able to join such a valuable course. It would be fantastic material for his book! And here his father was, most likely playing Tetris on his phone through all the lectures. Life's not fair.  
  
"You're not touching my files, are you boy?" His dad asked suddenly and Jughead jerked his hand back.  
  
"No Dad," He quickly said, moving back to the desk. "I'm just playing with this weird... lamp." He grabbed the head of the lamp, swiveling it towards the roof to throw a spotlight on the ceiling.   
  
"Don' break it. You going back to the Coopers after this, yeah? How's the brother?"  
  
"He's ah... He seems okay. Lot older than us, so we haven't really gotten to know him on a personal level." Jughead flicked the back of the lamp; it's spotlight landing on a pin-up board in the corner of the room. "It's weird. He looks a lot like them. A lot like Mrs. C."  
  
"Not Hal?"  
  
"Not at all. Much bigger than him. Taller and more... robust, I guess."  
  
FP chuckled. "Don't piss him off then. Remember, you're dating his little sister."  
  
Jughead smiled. "I'll try my best to stay on his good side. Hey, are FBI agents allowed to carry guns?"  
  
FP paused, thinking. "They are, but not off-duty, I think. Just watch out. You never know, the guy could be a nut. Like that hooker."  
  
"Chic wasn't a- Nevermind. I'll be careful, thanks, Dad."  
  
"Good. Enjoy the sleepover, I'm getting me a midnight snack now."  
  
Jughead's cheeks heated slightly. "Thanks, Dad. Goodnight and I love you, enjoy your snack."  
  
"Love ya too," His dad ended the call.   
  
A notification appeared on his cellphone screen. It was from Veronica and from the file name, he could tell it was some sort of image. Jughead hesitated before clicking on it. Once, she accidentally sent him a highly inappropriate photo that was meant for Archie. They couldn't look each other in the eyes for weeks. It was before Whatsapp had that delete function.   
  
Another message followed:  
  
'Check it out!! You need to get one with the other sister now.'  
  
Jughead gave in, clicking on the message to open it. He was relieved to see the photo was not of her body, but rather of Charles and Polly. The two of them were sitting facing each other at the bar, both with a drink and both looking like they are enjoying themselves. It was an obvious candid, as half of Archie's confused face and broad shoulder was in the other corner of the picture. Polly's hands were up as if she was gesturing something. He couldn't make out what she drinking, but from Polly's flushed cheeks, he could tell it wasn't their first round. In fact, if he zoomed in, he could almost swear Charles's drink was Le Bon Louis's famous Blood Orange Cocktail; a non-alcoholic drink.  
  
An uneasy feeling settled in his gut. Polly was out getting drunk with a man she just met. He checked his watch. It was just past eleven, meaning Veronica and Archie were probably going to head back home soon.   
  
'Don't tell B, but he looks more like her, than P.' Veronica typed, adding a silly emojis that looks like it was flirting, for some reason.  
  
'Probably cuz Betty looks like her mom, and P like her dad,' Jughead typed back. 'Did P drink a lot?'  
  
'Yeah XD' Veronica answered. 'Not C, he only had 1.'  
  
Jughead bit his bottom lip. Great. His phone lit up, showing an incoming call from Veronica. He answered.  
  
"Hello, Veronica?"  
  
"Hey! Don't worry, we're on the same page," Veronica said cheerfully, "Me and Arch will follow them home. I'm sleeping over at him anyway. Polly drank a lot, but she's not stupid. She's still far from drunk and did eat beforehand. Never underestimate a women's intuition, Jughead. She wouldn't have drunk something if she felt she couldn't trust him."  
  
Jughead signed, his body feeling a little less heavy now. "Thanks, Veronica, I appreciate it. And that's true, but Polly's intuition could be off," He stated, worried. "I don't want the guy driving off with her somewhere."  
  
He could hear Veronica's smile in her tone. "I don't think you have to worry too much. I heard some of their conversations. They talked mostly about work and late-20's adult stuff. Literally talked about tax returns and insurance. A lot about the twins and a ton about Betty. Completely normal, non-creepy things." She laughed, "Charles sounds like he's scared of Betty though, what did that girl do?"  
  
Jughead couldn't help but laugh as well. "Besides staring him down?"  
  
"Figures! Betty should be nice, he looks like a sweetheart. How do you feel about him?"  
  
"I like him," Jughead said, surprising himself. "I mean, he seems like he's nice. Mrs. C showed him photo's of their family. He didn't react weirdly to them; it was like it didn't register in his mind that he was supposed to be a part of that family. He was just happy to get to know more about... his sisters, I guess."  
  
'Hm," Veronica pondered, "I don't know, Jug. I'd classify that as weird. I mean, I would have been... kinda mad. Or at least a bit sad."  
  
Jughead shrugged. "We don't know how long Mrs. Cooper has been talking to him, or the extent of their visits. Maybe he is already over those feelings?"  
  
"That seems almost too easy," She said, suspiciously. Archie's voice rang in the background, but Jughead couldn't make out what he was saying. "But, it's probably a bit surreal, figuring out you have a family 28 years later. It's could be that he hasn't processed it all yet."  
  
"I guess all we can do is wait then," Jughead ran his hand through his hair. "I'll keep an eye out. And Betty's definitely on her guard."  
  
"Good. We don't want another Chic screwing- Oh! They just got up, I gotta go, I'll update you. Archie, get up-" She said hastily, ending the call.  
  
Jughead stuck his phone in his pocket, thankful that Veronica and Archie were going to do the spy work this time. He has been caught one too many times, following people and sneaking around; he didn't think his heart could take another scare. At least not this year.  
  
They could most certainly handle themselves. Veronica was fearless and so was Archie. Plus the red-head could put up a fight that would put a bear to shame. Even Betty; she was strong in so many ways a person didn't need to be strong. She never backs down from a threat. Although she wasn't a stranger to fear, Betty never gave in to those paralyzing waves that make you want to curl up, beg and cry. She's been in more than enough situations that called for it.  
  
Jughead felt a lot of pressure to match his circle of friend's performance. Unfortunately, he knew for a fact he didn't have their nerves of steel. By nature, he was a more sensitive person. This was a trait he despised for a large part of his childhood before he learned to just make peace with it. It's not welcome in a gang; not at all. But it did help him write.  
  
He'd never admit it to anyone, but there were so many times where he felt like he was going to die from fear. Then he'd look to his friends, to Betty, and see them stand unwavering, determined and unafraid. Seeing this forced him to repress those overwhelming billows. It inspired him to be brave; like them.  
  
He shuddered at the thought of having to someday face a threat alone. Would he be able to do it? Or would he give in, dying a whimpering, terrified mess?   
  
'What a way to go,' he thought, dejected. A part of him knew that if he regarded his own life as more valuable than he currently did, perhaps he would fight harder. But if he wasn't fighting to save those he loved, why would he fight to save himself? The day he has to face a fear without the support of his friends, would be the day he screwed up, majorly, and therefore would deserve to die alone.   
  
The room felt much colder. Jughead pulled himself from his mind, grabbing the keys to the truck. He moved to switch off the lamp, but paused, his eyes landing on the pin-up board.  
  
Dozens of scrawled-on sticky notes were stuck to a map of the South Side. Three photos, labeled 'Victim' in red ink, were pinned to the top of the board. Two were men and one was a woman, a blonde.   
  
Jughead stepped closer, hesitantly. This wasn't meant for his eyes. He knew there was a series of three kills that took place in the past two months. All of them were people from the South. The idea that the kills could be linked has not yet been made public. It only recently became a whisper in the Sheriff's office after it was discovered that the last victim, one of the males, had been castrated, like the first. It was also determined that the woman lived with the first man for two years, before moving in with her sister.   
  
After the Black Hood's terror run, the town was on high alert and extra security conscious, so the police department didn't feel it was necessary to warn people so soon. Residents were already locking doors, installing alarms and getting dogs. Much different from how the town was five years ago.   
  
There were some speculations on who the killer could be, but they were mostly a shot in the dark. One suspect is a young woman who now lives one town over. She accused the first man of holding her captive for two days and assaulting her. This was at the start of last year. She dropped the charges shortly after they began investigating the case; no one understood why. Point is, he was never prosecuted. And now he's dead.  
  
It would explain the castration, to some extent.  
  
Jughead knew there were photographs of the victims in the small brown folder in the cabinet, but he had no desire (or the stomach) to see them. He merely wants to understand the case better. Of course, his dad wasn't having any of it.   
  
He took a step back, realizing the time. His hand itched to take a quick photo of the board so he could study it later, but his moral compass directed him otherwise.   
  
FP would skin him.   
  
His phone vibrated again, with another picture from Veronica. This time, it was the back of Charles' SUV. They were right behind the two Coopers. Seeing as Archie lived next door, it wouldn't look suspicious if they were caught, so they didn't have to keep a massive following distance. Sure, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary if he himself was caught heading towards the Cooper home, but he wasn't sure how Charles would feel about him climbing through his little sister's bedroom window to spend the night.  
  
He'll have to drive back extra slow, just in case they were still awake by the time he returned.   
  
\----  
  
Betty stared at the sight before her, holding her breath. Her blood pulsed through the veins in her wrists, making her hands feel numb.  
  
She was in Polly's old room, now Charles's room, in front of his bed. She didn't mean to intrude; to go through his things. But the door was open and she couldn't resist it. Although his suitcase was one of those with a passkey, it was unlocked. He must have left it this way after taking out his jacket. Betty passed the room and saw he hasn't unpacked yet.   
  
For some reason, she argued that this made entering the room more okay.   
  
Before she could quite register what she was doing, she flipped open the suitcase's top.   
  
The very first thing she saw, neatly placed on top of his dress shirts, was a gun.  
  
The weapon had a trigger lock attached to it, one of those that can only be unlocked biometrically. Regardless, it was still a terrifying sight for a highschooler.   
  
She drew a deep breath through her nose and then reached to move it. It was ice-cold and heavy as lead. She wondered how many people have been shot or even killed, with this thing.  
  
'What am I doing?' flickered through her mind. She was technically snooping. But he's family now, so it's fine, right? No.   
  
Even if he was family, it would still be considered extremely wrong and invading.   
  
But she couldn't stop herself.  
  
Her mother was asleep, Jughead wasn't here yet. Polly and Charles? You would think they were still out, but no.  
  
They were downstairs, quietly ending their night out with coffee, having arrived only moments before she entered this room. Betty knew the stairs would creak if they were to come up, so she wasn't worried.  
  
Charles' suitcase emitted his addictive scent; a deep, earthy aroma with hints of vanilla, cedar, and tobacco. Betty was surprised how her brain had already associated the scent with Charles, even though she didn't get closer than 5 feet from him. Whatever cologne he used, he chose it well.   
  
Her hand brushed lightly over his pressed shirts, careful to not have her ring hook on the buttons. Everything was so orderly and clean. Her hand slipped into the gap between his clothes and the suitcase's inside, feeling around carefully. The more she thought about what she was doing, the worse she felt.   
  
What if she discovered something deeply personal to him? Was it really necessary to pull out his skeletons this early? She would have hated if someone did it to her.  
  
Her fingertips touched something leathery. She gently lifted his clothes, peeking at her discovery. To her surprise, it was a journal. A rather worn one at it, tied closed with a leather strap. As interesting as that was, a journal was her limit. She would never cross such a private boundary.  
  
However, the pill containers next to it was not below her.   
  
She grabbed the biggest one and turned it around, checking the label. Paroxetine. Better known as Paxil; an anti-depressant drug used to treat anxiety, OCD and PTSD.  
  
"Oh wow," Betty whispered, surprised.   
  
Is it okay for an FBI agent to be on these?   
  
Perhaps his job had caused it. The prescription was made out to Charles Smith. The bottle was half-full. The side of the cap was badly chipped, as if he had opened it multiple times with something sharp, like a knife.   
  
Or his teeth.   
  
It was a child-lock cap; maybe he didn't know how to open it? That, or he didn't care in the times he desperately needed it.   
  
It made her feel a deep sympathy for him. She wouldn't judge him on this, knowing very well that sometimes medication is the only thing that helps.   
  
But what were these? She picked up the seven-day pill organizer.   
  
"Betty!" A whisper broke the dead silence in the room. Betty's heart jumped and she spun around, shocked.  
  
Jughead was in the doorway, looking very alarmed. She sighed with relief.  
  
"Why are you sneaking up on me?" She scolded in a hushed tone.  
  
"What are you doing? You can't go through his stuff?" He scolded back, also in a hushed, but harsher, tone.  
  
"Keep watch, I'm almost done," She assured him, fishing out her phone. Jughead gave her an incredulous look, his eyes wide.  
  
"You are impossible! Is that a gun? There's a gun!" Jughead's panicked whispers followed shortly on each other.   
  
"Shush," She put a finger to her lips, "Make sure they don't come up, please, I just want to know what this is," She whispered, carefully opening the Tuesday and Thursday section's caps.  
  
Jughead threw his head back, one hand in his hair. "Fine, but hurry!" He slipped outside, moving to the end of the hallway. Betty knew he came through her window, which she always left open. She didn't hear him park, so he probably parked a block down.   
  
She took a photo of the entire container and then took out a red pill from the opened section, taking a photo of the little letters and numbers stamped into it. There were at least three pills in each section. A lot of pills for a 28-year-old.   
  
The headlights from a passing car threw a shadow on the bedroom wall, startling Betty. The jerk from her jump catapulted the pills from Tuesday and Thursday through the air. Betty watched horrified as they bounced on the carpet, mixing the two dates.  
  
"They're done, they're coming up," Jughead warned hastily at the door, freezing when saw the pills. "What happened?"   
  
"I dropped it!" Betty hissed, "Quick, you have to distract them! I don't know which goes where?" Her heart raced, making her brain useless.   
  
"Okay, okay, don't stress, just check the photos," Jughead assured her, "I'll stall them, just hurry, okay?"  
  
"Okay," She nodded and dropped to her knees, quickly gathering the little pills. There were six but in four different colors. If there was three in each container, that would mean... She gave up on the math and plucked her phone from her pocket, referencing the photo instead.  
  
Meanwhile, Jughead shot down the hallway towards the stairs.  
  
Just in time, too. Polly and Charles had just reached the bottom of the staircase.  
  
"Hey guys," He quipped, his sudden exclaim giving Polly a fright.   
  
"Shit! Jughead!" Polly squeaked, her hand on her heart, "You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you already left?" She seemed more surprised than angry.  
  
Jughead noticed Charles's hand instinctively went to Polly's shoulder as if to push her behind him. He dropped it when he realized Jughead's eyes were on it.   
  
The younger male cleared his throat. "No, um, me and Betty were... watching a movie," He said, trying to regain control of his voice, "I just... thought I heard something," He said, sheepishly.   
  
"Heard something?" Charles asked, concerned.  
  
"It was probably just you guys," Jughead explained, rocking back on his heels. "Probably nothing to worry about."  
  
"Yikes," Polly said, a shiver running down her spine, "Are you sure it was us that you heard?"  
  
"I'll take a walk around the house; just in case," Charles assured her, touching her elbow.  
  
"Thanks, Charles, maybe that's for the best," Polly agreed with a sigh. "This place used to be safe," She muttered, crossing her arms.  
  
"I can come with you," Jughead offered, "You know, to watch your back," His voice was still shaky and he could tell from Charles' smile that the man thought it was because he was scared.   
  
Wonderful.   
  
"It's alright," Charles said, sympathetically. "You stay here and protect Polly. I'll just be a minute."  
  
"Wait, don't you need your gun?" Polly asked as Charles headed towards the door. He spun around lifting his jacket's end to show her the holster. Jughead's heart jumped to his throat. Why did he have_ two_ guns?  
  
"Oh good!" Polly said, patting her cheekbones, "Come here, Jughead, stay with me."  
  
Charles stepped out, locking the front door as behind him as Jughead descended down the staircase. Polly's smile faded the second her brother was out of sight.   
  
"What are you two doing?" She snapped, reaching to grab Jughead by his arm.  
  
"Nothing!" Jughead said quickly, flinching. "Really, we just heard something."  
  
"I wasn't born yesterday and I know my sister. Are you guys going through his stuff?" She pulled him closer, glaring daggers at him.  
  
"Of course not!" Jughead assured, both hands up in a surrendering motion. His eye caught a movement at the top of the stairs.  
  
"We were really just watching a movie and heard something, right, Betty?" He asked, looking past Polly. Polly spun around, frowning at her younger sister.   
  
"Yes, really," Betty said, forcing a smile. She stood with her hands behind her back, her face that of pure innocence. "That's it, watched a movie and... heard a sound."  
  
Polly narrowed her eyes. "Hm. It better be." She let Jughead go and he scampered back. He agrees with his dad, the Cooper ladies are scary as hell.   
  
His girlfriend tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving a slow and subtle nod. Jughead blew out the breath he was holding, earning another suspicious look from Polly.  
  
"So, how was your night?" Betty inquired sweetly, moving down the stairs to join her friend, "You guys stayed out pretty late, I hope that means you got to do a lot of talking?"  
  
Polly's defensiveness dropped almost instantly. She smiled triumphantly. "We did. I showed him around town and we talked quite a bit. We actually click really good."  
  
"Great," Betty said. "I'm sure Mom would be happy."  
  
"She'd be happier if you clicked with him too."  
  
Betty didn't respond, turning towards the front door just as it was unlocked. Charles stepped in, a ginger cat in his arms.   
  
"I think this is our perpetrator," He hummed, his eyes on the creature against his chest.  
  
"Purr-petrator!" Polly chimed, earning a laugh from Charles. Even Betty smiled.  
  
Charles looked up from the cat, surprised to see Betty.  
  
Betty felt a tinge of guilt when he tensed up, his manner immediately changed to more guarded and uncertain. After the nefarious acts she just committed, it wouldn't kill her to be a bit nicer.  
  
"Oh, that must have been what we heard," She said, faking relief. "Thanks, Charles." She grabbed Jughead's hand. "We were really worried."   
  
Jughead nodded eagerly, picking up on what Betty was doing.  
  
Charles blinked twice. "Um... Of course, no problem." He cleared his throat, "He was probably after a rat or something." He placed the cat down gently, keeping the door open for it. The cat pressed his head against Charles's boot, not in the mood to leave.  
  
"Ew, rats." Polly shuddered. "It's the neighbor's cat that's attracting all these strays. And Mr. Andrews that keeps feeding them." She threw her hands on her hips. "Now I don't know about you guys, but I'm turning in. The twins usually get fussy around 4 and I need to sleep off this headache."  
  
"Right," Betty said, "We should probably get to bed as well. Jughead," She turned to him, "I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
He smiled. "Yes, I'll see you tomor-"  
  
"Save it, Smurf-boy, " Polly interrupted with a grin. "We all know you're just gonna climb through her window. Might as well use the stairs."  
  
Betty gave her a wide-eyed look and Jughead blushed, awkwardly glancing at Charles. The man pretended to be focused on scratching the cat's ear, but Jughead could see he was trying not to smile.  
  
He felt like an idiot.   
  
Betty hooked in with him, squeezing his arm. "Well, you heard her, let's go Smurf-boy," She teased, not paying mind to her sister. "Don't worry, I've covered multiple times for Polly and Jason, she won't rat you out."  
  
"To who?" Polly laughed. "Mom knows and FP probably encourages it."  
  
Betty clicked her tongue, "Quit embarrassing him. Mom would have said something if she knew." She didn't say anything about FP, knowing very well how true that was.   
  
She planted a reassuring kiss on Jughead's warm cheek as Polly rolled her eyes, good-heartedly.  
  
One of the twins started making soft, whining noises.  
  
"Ah, if one starts, the other follows!" Polly sighed, jogging to the baby room.   
  
"I hope we didn't wake them," Jughead said, worried.   
  
"Nah," Polly said, leaning over Juniper's cot. "Babies do this. They cry randomly and without reason." She stuck her head through the door to look at them. "Remember that."  
  
Charles chuckled, locking the front door after putting the cat out. "I don't know how you do it." He admitted. "You're so young. And there are two of them." He kept his voice low, as to not wake the other twin. "Even at this age, I wouldn't know how to handle a baby." He stepped closer to them, casually, his eyes on Polly.  
  
"Instinct is a weird thing, Charles. They kick in and suddenly you know what to do." She picked her daughter up, hugging the little girl closely to her heart. "Besides, unlike my mother, I had a lot of help."  
  
Betty perked up. This was the start of a conversation she did not want to be a part of. She knew before her soul that she wasn't mature enough for this and that she would handle it badly. She anxiously tightened her grasp on Jughead's arm.   
  
Thankfully, Charles seems to be well aware of this, since he didn't prompt that topic.   
  
Or it was too painful.  
  
Polly noticed the rising tension. She turned to her sister, gesturing with a jerk of her head towards the stairs. Betty nodded.  
  
"We should get to bed," She said quickly, "Goodnight everyone."  
  
Jughead waved slightly, very grateful for the escape route. "Night guys."  
  
"Goodnight," Charles said warmly. "Don't worry about the sounds. It's probably just the cat." He locked eyes with Jughead for a second. "But call me if you're worried. I'll check anytime."  
  
Jughead smiled earnestly. "Thank you," He looked at Betty. "We'll definitely do that."   
  
Betty nodded, pleasantly surprised. "You can call us too," She added jokingly, "I have a bat."  
  
"Wow. I'll have to be careful when I'm sneaking around," He joked back, leaning against the baby room's doorway. Polly snickered, joining him with Juniper still in her arms, ready to continue the conversation as soon as the couple was gone.  
  
Jughead had paused at Charles's joke. Something was off about it; was that an indirect warning? Before he could think further, Betty pulled him up the stairs, eager to get away. He followed her, staying shortly on her heels until they reached her bedroom.  
  
They slipped in and she closed the door, locking it with an exhale.   
  
"Why would she bring that up?" Betty asked, pressing her forehead against the door. "Young mothers, babies... Our mother?"  
  
Jughead pushed his uneasiness aside, placing a hand on Betty's back before pulling her away from the door. "They have to talk about it." He said, quietly. "Now is better than later."  
  
"Yes, but why Polly? My Mom should do that, Polly is just going to be... I don't know, insensitive. She'll say it wrong," She gave an unhappy growl.  
  
Jughead raised his eyebrows. "You care about how she's carrying it over? That's a good sign."   
  
Betty opened her mouth to say something, but Jughead pulled her into a hug before she could. "It's okay to like him. Stop fighting it." He said, feeling her tighten.   
  
She bit down on his collarbone, playfully. "I don't want to talk about him now," She whispered sensually into his ear, dragging her hand down his stomach.   
  
He caught her wrist. "You always do this, you know. You can't do this every time we talk about something seriou-" Betty's lips crashed against his, effectively shutting him up. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body against him. She could feel him sigh, but it was probably more with frustration than arousal.   
  
"We can talk about it in the morning," She promised. "For now, I just need to drown out whatever they're talking about downstairs." She stroked his cheek, staring up at him with her lips slightly parted. "And if you won't help me, I'll do it myself."  
  
Jughead smirked. "I'll do it better," He said simply, pulling her in for a kiss. She smiled against his mouth, allowing him to take charge.   
  
Despite her worries, she couldn't hear a single word from her siblings. They were probably talking in the baby room and it certainly wasn't going to be a five-minute conversation.   
  
She just wished that Polly didn't choose to do this after drinking.   
  
Her attention was quickly pulled back to Jughead when he scooped her up effortlessly in a bridal style. "Bed or shower?" He breathed, his voice low and warm.   
  
"Shower, it's quieter," She answered, dragging her hands through his raven hair. He nodded, moving towards the adjoining bathroom. Betty's moved from her current position to wrap her legs around him, kissing him passionately before he could reach the door. He had to stop to support himself on the doorway with one hand, his knees going weak with every skillful press of her hips against his stomach.   
  
Contrary to popular belief (at least, by Polly), they were actively avoiding the actions that could get Betty pregnant. There was a lot they could do that was still more than enough to satisfy them both, without the hanging threat of becoming young parents.   
  
Jughead stepped into the bathroom, placing Betty carefully on the counter. He moved to turn on the shower, but she pulled him back, holding him against her body.   
  
"Don't go," She said, breathing in his scent. Jughead kissed her in her neck and placed his warm hands under her shirt, onto her waist. She smiled, squirming when his thumb slipped into her waistband, brushing against the sensitive nerve bundle just below her hip-bone. She bit into his shoulder, harder this time. He allowed it, not even so much as shifting.  
  
That was the fun part, she could be as rough as she wanted with him, but he always stayed gentle.  
  
Unless, of course, she told him otherwise.   
  
He picked her up again, moving to the shower, seeing as she wouldn't let him go, and stepped inside, shutting the door tightly. They didn't turn on the tap until at least 15 minutes in when they finally realized they needed the water to muffle their sounds.   
  
\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.  
Jughead's personality is based very much on season 1's version of him, which is why he is a bit more reseverved and may give the idea of being a bit younger or more uncertain. He will still grow.
> 
> As for Charles, this story was created based on his personality at the end of season 3 and some parts of season 4, stopping at episode 5 at maximum.
> 
> Thanks again,  
Criticism welcome,
> 
> Yours sincerely,  
Tom Arlo


	5. Chapter 5: Wondering

_**Warning: The following chapter contains mentions of violence, death, and abuse. Do not proceed if this is triggering to you.**_  
  
  
Betty stood passively in front of her closet, staring at the dozens of jackets, coats, sweaters, and hoodies.  
  
She hasn't been able to pick something warm to match her outfit for the past 12 minutes. It wasn't so much that she was confused by the choices, just that her mind was everywhere but there. It was now 7 am, 3 hours before Riverdale High's annual Sport's day and 6.5 hours after she dropped her mysterious brother's medication on the carpet.   
  
Thanks to that photo she took, she was able to put all the little pills back where they should be. In her mind's eye, she could already see herself having to confess it all to Charles if she didn't manage to arrange them the way they were. Of course, she would never just stick them in a random section. He could have some sort of heart problem or something. It could kill him if he took the pills without thinking twice if they were the correct ones. Why would he double-check his own arrangement anyway?  
  
Jughead left around an hour ago. He and Archie is helping the rest of the football team to clean and set up the scoreboards.   
  
The two of them got up extra early to make pancakes for the house's sleeping residents. It was meant to be a form of a peace offering, but Betty would also be able to use this as an excuse for not joining breakfast, seeing as she and Jughead had theirs on the porch.   
  
When she passed Charles' room earlier, his door was still closed, but the light was on. Seems he is an early riser. Or he just couldn't sleep. Perhaps he was finally unpacking.  
  
Polly was out like a candle. Betty had closed the door to the baby room, frustrated with her sister for leaving it unlocked, and quietly continued to set a table and make heaps of fluffy pancakes, ready to be drenched in the Blossom family's famous maple syrup.   
  
Today was going to be a bleak one. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky and a thick layer of fog was making it extra chilly. Why did it always have to rain on Sport days?  
  
She dragged her hand over the hanging clothes, pausing on a black coat, her mind jumping back to Charles' scent. She didn't know why it was constantly on her mind. It felt a bit silly.  
  
Downstairs, the house was slowly coming to life. Polly was baby-talking to one of the twins and she heard her mother's bedroom door open. That was her cue to speed things up and get to school before she is forced to join her mother for a 'quick' coffee that is never quick. She grabbed a tan-colored jacket and a pair of rain boots, plopping down on her bed to put them on.  
  
Someone knocked on her door.   
  
She looked up from her position with one knee under her chin and both hands on her boot's edge, frowning.  
  
"You can come in, Mom," She said, surprised that her mother would bother to knock.   
  
"Actually, it's me," A male voice answered, not opening the door.   
  
Betty winced. "Oh, right, you can still come in," She said, quickly straightening her clothes and pulling the corners of her bedcover towards the pillows, hiding the twisted sheets underneath it. A quick scan across her room confirmed everything was more or less neat.  
  
The door opened slowly and Charles entered, not stepping more than a foot in. He was dressed in a mint-colored button-up shirt and dark brown trousers with suspenders, no tie or jacket yet.   
  
No gun, either.  
  
"Good morning," Betty yammered, standing up, a little nervous. "How was your first night?" She asked quickly, too loud, aiming to get him to do the talking. "I hope the storm didn't bother you."  
  
He smiled. "It was great, thank you. And not at all, in fact, I slept straight through it." His voice was calm as he leaned against the doorway. "You were up early though; your mother mentioned you even made breakfast?"  
  
"_Our _mother," She corrected him, pulling her breath through her teeth and trying to seem friendly. Cheryl would approve of the fakeness in her tone and smile.  
  
He cleared his throat, thrown off guard. "Ah, well... yes, it- I actually just wanted to drop by to ask you a question." He regained his composure, crossing his arms.   
  
Betty felt a slight worry creep up her spine. "Shoot," She forced out, trying her best to keep a smile.  
  
He tried to look her in the eye, but she averted her gaze, staring instead at her rain boots.  
  
"Aren't you missing something?" He asked after a moment of silence, his tone laced with a hint of amusement and something more... sinister?   
  
She looked back at him, frowning. "What do you mean?" She asked innocently, already feeling her heart flutter.  
  
Without a word, he reached into his pocket and she immediately took a step back. Noticing this, he smirked. "What do you think I'm going to take out?"  
  
"A knife," She bit without hesitation, noticing he had a lot more confidence compared to last night. Must be something to do with those pills?  
  
He titled his head. "No, it's not a knife." He assured but didn't show her just yet.   
  
"Where's your gun?" She asked, stepping forward again, her stance matching his.   
  
"I think you know," He drawled, "It's right where it was last night."  
  
"Your... hip?"  
  
"No."  
  
Betty's stomach sank. She felt her palms immediately get hot and sweaty. Her defiance withered away. Biting her bottom lip, she waited for him to say something.  
  
Charles pulled his hand from his pocket, producing a delicate, silver ring.   
  
_Her_ ring.  
  
Betty's jaw went slack. She didn't know what to say. It must have slipped off when she stuck her hand underneath his clothes. That would mean it was probably either on or near his journal.   
  
This looks so bad.   
  
Lying and saying that it wasn't hers wouldn't help; her name was engraved on it. How was she going to get out of this one?  
  
"I-" She started, feeling her neck flush, "I know how this looks," She stammered, taking another step closer, her palms up and facing him. "I swear I didn't look at anything, your book, I mean, or your pills-"  
  
"Betty, wait," He stopped her, closing his eyes with a frown. "This... was_ next_ to my suitcase. I mean, I assumed you opened it and saw my gun, I didn't know you looked.... deeper..." His expression was now a mix of guilt and worry. Betty cursed in her head; she really shouldn't sell herself out like this.  
  
"I did," She said quickly, "I mean, I didn't_ specifically_ look through your things or anything," An idea sparked in her mind, "I actually wanted to help you... unpack," Great, the second day and she was already lying through her teeth. It's a terrible feeling, but this needs to be done. Otherwise, he might never trust her again.  
  
"Oh, um," He looked surprised, "That's-"  
  
"Inappropriate, I know," Betty interrupted, "I realized that when I saw the gun and then the... pills. I figured it's probably weird since you are my _adult_ brother, not a kid brother or something. And you have personal things that are none of my business and that's okay, because everyone has them," She took a deep breath, looking at him apologetically. "I swear, I didn't read your journal."  
  
Charles instantly seemed flustered and Betty knows it was because of her use of the word 'brother'. That and 'our' mother was her only two weapons now, as diabolical as it was.   
  
Exhaling, he touched his jaw. "It's okay, it was actually very thoughtful of you to want to help ..." His eyes met hers, hesitantly.  
  
"My mother says men can't do anything for themselves," She blurted out, playing the innocent 'I-didn't-have-brothers-I-don't-know-how-boys-work' card.  
  
"Well," He looked to the roof, "That's probably not... entirely wrong. Look, I'm not upset with you, or anything, it's my fault for leaving it out in the open. I just don't want you and Jughead playing with things like guns and pills, okay?" Genuine concern was obvious in his expression.  
  
'How old does he think we are?' Betty thought, surprised, but she was grateful for his cluelessness since it was helping her case.   
  
"I promise we won't. You don't have to lock up everything either, now that I know what is there, I'll stay out of your room," She assured him. "May I ask, why do you take pills?"  
  
He paused, narrowing his eyes slightly, "Did you... read the label?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"It's vitamins," He said, smiling. She forced a smile back.   
  
Like hell it is.  
  
"Do you know how a child-proof cap works? I can show you," Betty asked sweetly, enjoying his sudden look of embarrassment.   
  
"Ah, you saw that, um it's okay. That one was just a manufacturing fault," He coughed softly, fidgeting with the button on his sleeve. "But yeah, it's twist and pull..." He glanced at her.  
  
"Twist, push, pull," She explained, mildly entertained, showing the motion with her hand.   
  
"Oh, that makes more sense," He frowned, his left hand copying the motion. "Thanks. Here is your ring back," He extended his hand, holding the ring in his palm. She reached to take it, her fingers brushing against his skin. Huge hands, she thought. Choker hands.   
  
"Thank you, and sorry, again," Betty said, meaning it.   
  
Charles smiled and waved it away. "Don't worry about it. Where's your friend?"  
  
Oh, thank goodness, a topic change. "He's already at school. We have a Sports day today, so he's helping with the set-up. What's on your agenda?"   
  
They strolled down the hallway and began heading downstairs.  
  
"Sports day, huh? Let's hope it doesn't rain," Charles commented, glancing at the creaking stairs below them, "Well, I'm meeting the Sheriff's Department today. So I'll probably get to know Jughead's dad."  
  
Alice looked up from the newspaper when she heard her son's voice. Her eyes widened when she saw Betty was next to him. They were _chatting_? Polly didn't notice; too busy cooing to Dagwood who was crushing a pancake between his chubby little fingers.   
  
She couldn't tell what they were talking about, but they both seemed friendly.   
  
Her foot tapped around underneath the breakfast table, looking for Polly's foot. She found it, nudging her. Perking up like a meerkat, Polly looked to her mother and then to the stairs.   
  
"Oh, good!" She squealed, "You're both up!" Dagwood took his chance to fling a chewed-up piece of pancake across the table and into Polly's lap.   
  
"Hey, Mommy told you to stop doing that," She scolded, trying to take the rest from him.   
  
Charles laughed. "Wow, someone has his Daddy's passing arm. Polly, Alice," He nodded to Mrs. Cooper, who watched them with a smile on her face.   
  
"Unfortunately he also has his Daddy's stubbornness," Polly signed, trying gently to pry the little fingers open. Alice placed the folded up newspaper down, gesturing to the seat across from her.  
  
"Good morning, Charles, Betty, why don't you guys join us?" Her tone was cheery and she was beaming.   
  
"Sorry, Mom, I gotta meet up with Veronica over at Archie's," Betty actually felt a little bit of regret, "But I will see you guys this afternoon?" Turning to Charles, she was pleased to see he looked less out of place than yesterday.   
  
Again, he's kinda hot. Which is probably weird to think, but whatever.   
  
"We'll see you tonight too because all of us are going to watch the Parade!" Polly bounced in her chair, clapping her hands. "Charles just doesn't know it yet," She giggled at her brother's confused look. "I'll explain it all, don't worry."   
  
A little excitement flashed across Betty's features; which Alice immediately picked up.   
  
"Great, my friends really wanted to meet-" Betty paused, not wanting to put pressure on Charles, "See... all of you. Okay well, bye!"   
  
"Just a minute, young lady," Her mother grabbed her wrist before she could hurry out the door. "I don't want you and Veronica walking through the streets by yourself tonight. You don't want to become a victim of that... Just stay safe, at least until they find the murderer."  
  
Betty sighed, "Mom the current suspect for those kills is a _woman _with a motive_._ And two of the victims were men," She reminded her. "So I have nothing to worry about."  
  
"A woman can be a killer too. And one of the victims was a young lady and that's enough for me. Don't be ignorant. And keep those facts quiet, it's not supposed to be public knowledge yet." She chastised, wiping her thumb over a beauty mark on her daughter's arm.   
  
"Do you know anything about this?" Betty asked, turning to Charles. "I mean, that's why you're here, right? Or is that... classified?" She added the last part jokingly, making quotations with her fingers.   
  
He shrugged with a smile. "That is why I'm here and yes, it is... classified. But your mother-"  
  
"Our," She corrected, earning a very hard wrist-squeeze from Alice.   
  
Charles ignored it. "...-is right, one victim is a lady; a very young one at it. Recently graduated from high school. She was taken from the street, not her home, so please be careful."  
  
"That is young," Betty said, her eyebrows raised. A tingle went down her neck. "Don't worry, we'll be safe. Besides, Jughead will be with me at all times, so we'll be fine."  
  
"Just stay out of the streets entirely, Elizabeth," Alice shook her head, displeased. "You can't put that kind of pressure on the Jones' boy; he is just a child. If the day comes where you are in real danger, you are going to feel very bad if he gets hurt trying to protect you."   
  
Betty opened her mouth to argue, but didn't, knowing her mother was right. Sure, Jughead was street-smart, but that was it. He could stand up against thugs, vandals, gangs, heck she knew he'd even be able to take someone twice his size.   
  
But what could he do if there was a gun on him? What could anyone do?   
  
One second of dropping your guard and you could be staring down that soulless metal barrel. The minute that weapon is aimed, you are at the wielder's mercy. You have no other option than to just do what they say and pray for the best.  
  
She was afraid Jughead wouldn't realize this.   
  
"We'll stay out of the streets," She assured her mother, "I promise."  
  
Alice nodded approvingly as Betty gave her a quick peck on the cheek.   
  
With a quick wave, her youngest daughter disappeared out of the room and to the front door. Her focus shifted to her son, who took the seat across from her.  
  
"Teenagers," She commented, "Always want to argue."  
  
Charles gave a soft chuckle, "The boy, is he in a gang, by any chance?"  
  
"Yes," Alice said, impressed. "How did you know?"  
  
He gestured to his head. "The King pin, or 'whoopee hat', as it's called. Usually given to young gang members so the others can see who they should protect. That or he's a mechanic, but his hands seem a bit too... soft for that."  
  
"Attentive," She commented, pondering over the thought. "Yes, he's in a gang called the South Side Serpents. They're harmless, really. But it does give their young men a false sense of security. They think they can do what they want because the gang will always them."  
  
"That's a dangerous mentality," He pulled a breath through his teeth, "But that's why we interrogate them alone. Without the protection their pack, they _sing_," Charles' voice tone was laced with malevolence, which he fixed it by adding, "He seems like a good kid, though. I hope he grows out of it."  
  
This was the first time Alice saw a crooked fleck of something wicked in her son's polite and modest persona. It was as if the light in his eyes shut off for just a second, enough time for her to get a small glimpse of the dark side of his soul.   
  
Good. He's definitely her son.   
  
"I think he will," Polly added, not picking up on the shared look between the other two Coopers, "I mean, I get it's kind of like a community thing, but they still have pretty weird rituals, which I don't think he really agrees with. In fact-"  
  
Polly stopped when the front door opened, surprised to see her sister.   
  
Betty stepped in, her eyes wide.   
  
"Hey, did you forget something?" Polly asked, only then taking in Betty's shaken appearance.  
  
"Are you okay?" Charles asked, standing up. "You're white as a ghost. What happened?"  
  
"I-I'm fine," Her voice trembled and she wrapped her arms around her body, "It's that cat. The one from last night... It's dead."  
  
\-----  
  
  
"Oh dear," Alice placed a hand over her mouth, scowling at the disturbing sight before them. "This is Mr. O'Connor's cat."  
  
The cat was indeed dead; it's headless body ceremoniously hooked in the oak tree's lowest branch. The creature's head was nowhere in sight.   
  
Betty and Charles flanked her. Polly decided to stay inside; her stomach couldn't stand such things.   
  
"Do you think a dog caught it?" Charles wondered, stepping closer. "The owner of the mutt probably placed the cat in a tree, out of reach. Then again, there's not a lot of blood." The animal's fur was dirty and clumped, but there was barely any blood. No obvious bite marks, either.   
  
"The cut looks so... clean," Betty whispered, her hands clamped on her heart. "What if someone is trying to send us a message?"  
  
Charles frowned. "Could that be a possibility?" He asked Alice, who rubbed her temples.  
  
"Well, this is the kind of surprises you get when running a paper," Her voice was dry, unhappy. "This isn't even our cat, the imbeciles."  
  
"I'll ask the lab to process it, maybe we can find who did this," Charles said, grabbing the cat's body by its hips.   
  
"Should you be touching it?" Betty turned away, feeling sick to her stomach.  
  
"I'll just tell the guys to rule out my fingerprints; it should be fine."  
  
"That's not-" Betty stopped. It wasn't what she meant. She was more aiming her concern in the direction of gross diseases and bacteria. But yes, he is technically tampering with evidence.  
  
"Where is the head?" Her mother asked, looking around, "I swear, if it's mounted on a stick somewhere..." She sighed. "I'll go over to Mr. O'Connor and tell him the cat got hit by a car or something. He doesn't have to know the details."  
  
"Alice, are you sure this is just a petty crime? If you are in danger," Charles started, distress surging through his presence. It was an ominous image; this young, lion of a man, dressed in stylish but formal attire, clutching half a cat between his fingers. A spine-chilling sight for an onlooker.   
  
"Don't worry," Alice assured him, "We've had worse show up around these parts. Who knows, maybe it was just a dog?" She turned to Betty, "Go to Veronica, we'll handle this."  
  
Betty looked past her mother, keeping her eyes on Charles. The way he is holding that corpse; his grip buried in the flesh like he was carrying a shopping bag.  
  
It's so brutal.   
  
"Betty?" Alice called again, touching her shoulder. This snapped her out of her trance.  
  
"Yes," She nodded, spinning around. "Um, I'll see you guys later, thanks, Mom," Without turning back, she hurried over to Archie's house where her friend was waiting for her. If it wasn't for her early breakfast, she'd probably be on her knees right now.   
  
This was certainly not how she wanted to start her morning.   
  
  
\----  
  
"Done," Jughead hopped off the ladder to the scoreboard, wiping his hands on his shirt. Cold raindrops pelted onto his tired shoulders. "I don't understand the point of cleaning these things if it's going to rain anyway," He commented, swinging the rusted bucket from side to side, the soapy water splashing on the dried grass.  
  
Archie was on his back, panting, his red hair covered in grass clippings. The serpent kicked at his friend's foot, testing to see if he was awake.  
  
"Tired," Archie muttered and Jughead rolled his eyes.   
  
"From what? I did most of the work," He fell down next to him.   
  
"Well yeah, but I had to run in between all the scoreboards and give orders. That's hard work."  
  
"Or you're just unfit."  
  
"Or that," Archie sat up. "Yeah, probably that. Veronica texted me a while ago; they're running late. Are you and Betty going to watch the Junior's game?"  
  
With a yawn, Jughead shook his head, stretching his shoulders back. "Nope. I am only joining her from 12. She is working with Cheryl at the cupcake stand. Each cheerleader needs to do a two-hour shift. My shift at the burger stand only starts at 1, so I'm gonna go shower and take a nap," He rubbed his palm over his cheek.  
  
"I want to do that too," Archie whined, "But Veronica signed me up for ticket ripping at the gate."  
  
Jughead laughed, copying a whipping sound with his mouth. Archie wrinkled his nose and pushed his friend down into the wet grass. "Come help me?"  
  
"Forget it! I had like three and a half hours of sleep, I'm not giving this nap up for anything," Jughead shoved him off and jumped up, offering his hand to Archie.   
  
"How come you guys were up so late?"   
  
"We were talking to Charles. You saw him at the Speakeasy last night, right? Any thoughts?" The two of them began strolling towards the parking lot, kicking up puddles with every step.  
  
"Yeah," Archie frowned, "Stay away from him."  
  
The sudden drop in Archie's tone made Jughead freeze in his tracks, "What do you mean? Are you serious?"  
  
"Just trust me on this, okay? I got major weird vibes from the guy. I have no idea why Veronica is so crazy about him." The rain picked up, drenching their shirts and the field around them.   
  
"Dude, you can't just drop these bombs on me," Jughead exasperated, running a hand through his soaked hair. "Why do you feel like that? Is it because Veronica..." He wavered, "Look, aren't you maybe a bit..."  
  
"No, I'm not jealous," Archie snapped, regretting it instantly.   
  
The writer shoved his hands in his pockets with a slight shrug. "I wasn't going to ask that. But if I were, I'm assuming I wouldn't be the first?"  
  
"Ronnie accused me of it last night."  
  
"Yikes. Why?"  
  
"Because I pointed out that he's too perfect."  
  
Biting his lip with a frown, Jughead tilted his head. "No offense but that does sound-"  
  
"I know, I know, but think about it." Archie halted, taking a moment to find the right words, "He was... abandoned as a baby. No one adopted him. Not a single family wanted to adopt a very attractive blue-eyed, blonde boy ever since he was an infant. I mean, he's in the FBI so he's probably smart too, right?"   
  
Jughead lowered his eyes to the ground as Archie continued.   
  
"And now, 28 years later, a woman tracks him down and tells him his years of bouncing from foster home to foster home was technically her fault, but he can come meet the two kids she actually wanted to keep. And what is his reaction? Nothing. He is 100% fine with it. Clicks in like nothing happened," Reaching down, he grabbed at a weed, pulling it from the roots. "I don't buy it. It's not human."   
  
"Archie," Jughead started, "What else can he do? I mean, it's probably still sinking in-"  
  
"What happens when it does sink in? Look..." He took a step closer, looking his friend the eye, "I know I'm going to sound like a complete jerk, but... foster kids like that-"  
  
"You might as well stop now because you already sound like a jerk."  
  
"Just hear me out. I _really _don't mean any offense," He placed his hand on Jughead's shoulder, who shrugged it off. "Jug, there is a reason why he wasn't adopted. Maybe people didn't want him near their kids, or themselves, for a good reason." He knew he was hitting close to home; Jughead had been in foster homes himself. "I get it, a lot of kids don't get adopted until they age out, but this guy was there since he was _born_. He was raised with the idea that no one wanted him. It's hardcoded into his entire being. He's screwed up."  
  
"How can you say that?"  
  
"It's true. It's not just statistics or facts even, it's common sense. No one can be normal after that. The guy is now in a house with the person who did that to him. With the two daughters she kept. And two grandchildren."  
  
"She didn't _do_ anything to him, she had no other choice!"  
  
"Yeah, you and I know that, but he doesn't! It's easy for us to say who wasn't in his position, but you think he didn't despise her growing up? Every time he had to move homes, every time he went to bed hungry or when someone... hurt him. Think realistically. He had 28 years to build a grudge. What if he takes revenge?"  
  
Jughead closed his eyes and turned away. His stomach was doing backflips. "Why are you telling me this? He is _living_ with them now."  
  
"I know... I didn't tell you this just to upset you." Archie kept his distance from Jughead, allowing him the space he needed. "Someone had to say it. I just want you to be careful. When I first heard about Charles, I assumed he was going to look like Chic." He spoke quietly, pushing back the anger he felt at the mention of that demon. "But when I saw him last night... The man is built like a tank and is allowed to carry a gun. I'm worried about what he can do to you guys."  
  
"The FBI doesn't just go around giving guns to every random idiot, you know," Jughead said after a moment of silence. "He wouldn't be an agent if he wasn't sane."  
  
"Everyone has a breaking point. As you said, he didn't know about this family until now. He didn't have a reason to be insane yet. Now he does."  
  
The rain stopped, but the wind didn't. The two young men suddenly realized that they were freezing and would probably catch a cold from this. Here and there, a wandering soul could be spotted, setting up small tables and stands for the Sports Day ahead.   
  
"We should go... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up so out of the blue. Are you okay?" Archie felt terrible. He could see how badly this shook his friend.  
  
"I'm fine. I'm just worried that you might be right," Jughead crossed his arms with a quiver, "Betty likes him. And I do too. He seems like he's a nice guy, but... that's naive. I don't know what to do," He admitted.  
  
Archie turned to him, surprised. "Hey, don't worry. You don't have to take this on alone. If I can make a suggestion... Maybe talk to Mrs. Cooper and just hear if she knows a bit more about his mental state than we do. And I guess, what her reasons are for, well, for starters, boldly giving him a key. I can come with you."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Jughead straightened up. "Thanks, Archie, but it's okay. Mrs. Cooper is not going to want to hear a single bad word about her son right now. Maybe," He lifted his chin, looking to the sky. "We should address the root of the problem and talk to Charles first. I'll do it by myself; we don't want to give him the impression that we're ganging up on him."  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea? What if he, I don't know, snaps?"  
  
"Then we know."  
  
Archie groaned. "I should have just kept my mouth."  
  
"No, thank you for telling me this," Jughead met his gaze, "Being ignorant isn't going to help. You're right, I can't imagine what he must be feeling right now and yes, it's insanely weird that he seems so okay with everything. Maybe he's just good at hiding it, but still. If talking to him doesn't help, then I'll go to Mrs. Cooper. I want to keep Betty out of this equation as long as possible."  
  
Archie nodded. "Agreed, one hundred percent. I won't say a word to her. Just don't do anything stupid, please."  
  
"I won't. Or... Well, I'll try not to," They reached the parking lot, "I'll pick my words very carefully."  
  
\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, would love to know what you think,
> 
> Also, I know I keep describing Charles as very tall/big. I'm aiming around 6'2", give or take.
> 
> Yours sincerely,  
Tom Arlo

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, hope you enjoyed this.  
Warning that this story will contain mature elements and elements of abuse, stalking, obsession, etc.  
Do not read this if that upsets you.  
Charles and Jughead is not related in this fanfiction. He's merely Betty's brother. Criticism welcome. 
> 
> Yours sincerely,  
Tom Arlo.


End file.
